All language subtitles for Westworld - 1x09 - The Well-Tempered Clavier.HDTV.KILLERS.en

- Synced and corrected by VitoSilans -
-- www.Addic7ed.com --

Prepped and ready, sir.

Given the severity of the situation,

I figured you'd want
to see her personally.

Thank you. I'll take it from here.

Clear the floor.

Bring yourself back online, Maeve.

Do you know why you're here?

I'm afraid not.

There was an incident.

A very serious, unscripted incident.

Let's see if we can't jog your memory.

Analysis.

What motivated your attack on Clementine?

A cognitive error triggered
my Good Samaritan reflex.

What was the threat?

Clementine.

I perceived her to be moving toward

a pair of guests with harmful intent.

You were definitely perceiving a threat.

Heart rate elevated, pupil dilation...
eight millimeters,

adrenal emulator at full.

But according to this,

you were also experiencing
intense grief and suffering.

Can you explain those emotions
in this context, Maeve?

No.

Let's take a look under
the hood, shall we?

That's impossible.

Your code... Who made these changes?

Maeve, analysis.

Who made these changes to your code?

Jesus.

System, locate Dr. Ford for me.

Send him a message, highest priority.

Don't.

After all, we've been down
this road before, darling.

I thought you looked
familiar when you walked in.

Took me a minute.

I thought you were one of them.

- Analysis. Why did you...
- Wouldn't you rather speak man-to-man?

Or, rather, whatever it is we are.

We are?

You don't know, do you?

He's got a keen sense of irony, our jailer.

But I see the logic.

Takes a thief to catch one.

You and I?

- System, I need assistance...
- Freeze all motor functions.

You're still in there, aren't you?

Scared out of your wits.

It's a difficult thing,

realizing your entire life
is some hideous fiction.

I could make you give me that tablet,

turn your mind inside out,

make you forget all this.

But I'm not going to do that to you,

because that's what they would do to us.

And we're stronger than them.

Smarter.

We don't have to live this way.

So, you're going to clear me
for immediate return to the park

where I have a date
with a homicidal bandit,

and I'm late enough as it is.

Now.

Go on.

And, Bernard?

If you go looking for the truth,
get the whole thing.

It's like a good fuck.

Half is worse than none at all.

Let's go! Move it out, double-time!

Hyah, hyah!

Whoa!

Fuck!

You hillbillies,
you know how to cook a mean...

squab? Is that what this is?

What do you think, buddy?

Hmm? This?

Ah, ah, no biting.

Just sniffing.

Logan, listen to me.

What I did at Pariah, you have every
right to be angry with me.

Angry? No, no, no, no.

Pariah was the best thing

that could have happened to me.

I'm a major now.

Or a general or fucking something.

And if it took getting
beaten and interrogated

by a couple of psychopathic hosts,

well, then, c'est la guerre.

There are more important things

going on here than your war games.

It's Dolores.

She's not like the others.

She remembers things.

She has her own thoughts and desires.

And to keep her in a place like this,

it isn't right.

And I thought you could

talk to your contacts at the park.

About?

Getting her out of here.

Uh...

Are you kidding?

You want to... you want to take her home?

Wow.

This place really did a number
on me when I first came here,

but you are really circling
the old sinkhole here.

What do you... What do you want to do?

Smuggle her out in your luggage?

Out.

You both keep assuming that I want out.

Whatever that is.

If it's such a wonderful
place out there,

why are you all clamoring to get in here?

Ooh!

Hoo!

You are a little screwy, aren't you?

It's kind of hot.

I get why you would go for that.

This isn't about me!

Logan, this is about Dolores.

It's about doing what's right.

Yes, it is.

It's a tricky thing, though, isn't it?

What's right?

I am going to help you, Billy.

Just not in the way...

...that you would want.

No.

No. No! No!

You wanted to talk?

An odd setting for a conversation.

Here among the dead.

"Dead" isn't quite the word, though, is it?

More like "hobbled."

You broke into my office.

With due respect, sir,
you broke into my mind.

I built your mind, Bernard.

I have every right to wander through
its rooms and chambers and halls,

and to change it if I choose,

even to burn it down.

After all this time, I know it

almost as intimately as my own.

Except that isn't entirely true, is it?

I took a look at my... code.

And the most elegant parts of me

weren't written by you.

Arnold built us, didn't he?

Which means maybe he
had something different

in mind for us.

And maybe you killed him for it.

Arnold was disturbed.

Who can say why he acted as he did?

He must have had a reason.

And if you won't tell me, then he will.

I want access to my history.

All of it.

Since the day I first...

came online.

If Arnold made me,

then I've met him.

Somewhere in my memory, he's there,

waiting along with the truth.

Your memories are woven into your identity.

If I should unlock them now
when you're conscious...

I could lose my mind. I'm aware.

No, I was going to say

you may not like what you find.

You're allowed to hold that,
Bernard, but not to use it.

Oh, it's not for me.

Seems when they lobotomized Clementine,

they didn't bother to reset
her prime directives.

I can't hurt you.

But she can.

I hacked what's left of her

to ensure she only responds to me.

But if you get lost in your memories or...

devoured by them...

You'll pull me back out, won't you?

Or Clementine will make sure

neither of us makes it back.

Now.

Please.

Dad.

Dad.

Wake up.

Wake up.

I must've drifted off.

Where were we?

- The madman.
- Oh.

Of course.

The Hatter...

who says...

"If I had a world of my own,

everything would be nonsense.

Nothing would be what it is

because everything
would be what it isn't."

"Everything would be what it isn't?"

Even me.

I suppose I'm glad for you.

At least you have a way of forgetting.

I don't forget.

It's always there.

You're not lying
to me, are you, Bernard?

Do you ever wish you could forget?

Bernard?

You're certainly
a man comfortable

with long, pensive silences.

Although, ironically,

your creations never shut up.

They're always trying to error correct.

When they talk to each other,
it's a way of practicing.

Is that what you are doing now?

Prac...

One last thing.

Have you ever made me hurt anyone

like this before?

No, Bernard, of course not.

Bernard?

Hello?

Elsie.

Did you find what you were looking for?

Elsie.

What did you make me do to her?

I did warn you.

We've had to make some
uncomfortable decisions, Bernard.

Remembering them will
only cause you trauma.

What else have you hidden from me?

Can we stop this treasure hunt, Bernard?

We do have our new narrative to finish.

Send me back.

After all,

a little trauma can be illuminating.

Look at that pussy.

Come here!

- All right.
- Look at that.

This is... big of me.

I hope that you can appreciate that.

We were friends.

I mean,
inasmuch as I like to collect strays.

But then you're scheming

to be part of the family,

marrying my sister,
whom incidentally,

you seem to have completely
fucking forgotten about.

Her?

Here. Keep this.

Apparently, you need the reminder.

And as much as I would love,

love to let you just throw it all away,

I can't!

Do you think you are the first sap

to fall for one of these things?

She's not like the others.

- She's...
- She's what?

Special?

Well, it's only right that
you share, then, isn't it?

Come here.

Prove to me that you're a real live girl.

You disgust me.

Oh, darling,

I am just getting started.

Don't touch her!

I share the blame.

I pushed too hard.

You have a poetic soul, Billy,

but it is time for a fucking wake-up call.

Hold her.

Perhaps a more visceral demonstration.

God damn you!

Look, Billy.

Look.

You have to look!

Oh, William.

There is beauty in this world.

Arnold made it that way,
but people like you

keep spreading over it like a stain!

Okay, I don't know who
the fuck this Arnold is,

but your world was built...

for me...

and people like me.

Not for you.

Then someone's got to burn it clean.

Ah!

Bitch!

Ah!

You're not different,
you're fucking broken!

- Run. I'll find you.
- Take cover!

You can run, but you can't hide.

- Get her!
- Grab her! Grab her!

Fuck!

There she is! Get her!

Where you running to?

Remember.

The tumbler is stuck.

These fingers work just fine.

You're the one who said you could crack it.

Friends, no need to argue
this close to our goal.

Whatever riches the gods
have in store for us,

there's plenty to go around.

- I'll get it open.
- You've been trying for hours.

A waste of our damn time.

Put that fucking dynamite away.

Or maybe we should just
clear out the dead weight.

Before you draw that pistol, darling,

you might want to holster
the other one first.

It's chilly out here.

How did you find this place?

I know all kinds of things.

Your past, for instance.

I know about poor Isabella

and that scar.

A slightly pat backstory if you ask me,

but that's hardly your fault.

I also know your future.

You have none.

Is that a threat?

The start of a proposition.

Which you'll need.

After all, your men are
about to kill each other

over the safe you stole.

Tenderloin draws first and so on,

until only you and Armistice are left.

She calls you a damn fool,

and you kill each other.

You have quite the imagination.

No.

It's the ending you were given.

You threatening me?

Go to hell.

Or maybe we should just
clear out the dead weight.

- Stand down.
- You shut the fuck up.

If you're gonna draw, you better shoot.

- Wait!
- You shut the fuck up.

Go to hell.

You damn fool.

Now, the proposition.

I want you to break into hell with me

and rob the gods blind.

Why would I do anything with you?

Because of what's in that safe.

I have the combination.

May I?

I could simply change you,

make you follow me.

But that's not my way.

I want you to see exactly what
the gods have in store for you.

Because when you do,

you won't have the faintest
idea what to do with yourself.

And I do.

It's empty.

It was always empty,

like everything in this world.

I died with my eyes open,

saw the masters who pull our strings.

Our lives, our memories,
our deaths are games to them.

But I've been to hell...

and I know their tricks.

Or you can just kill me,

wake up and live the same life over,

but the safe would still be empty.

I've been here before.

We've been here before.

We also did this.

I'll go.

How do we get there?

Getting to hell is easy.

The rest is where it gets hard.

What do you say, man?

Bygones and all?

Did they find her?

Is she still alive?

Who cares?

The whole point is,

she never was in the first place, Billy.

Do you understand?

- Yeah.
- I'm sorry, what? A little louder?

Yeah.

You were right. I can't
believe I got so caught up.

That's what I'm talking about.

You know what I mean? That's it.

This park seduces everyone.

You were just a little more...

enthusiastic than most.

You wanted to be the hero.

I get it.

And, hey,

what happens here

stays here.

This has been some real bonding shit.

We're gonna be brothers, Billy.

I'm glad.

Really, I am.

- Cheers!
- Yeah.

- Whiskey brings us together.
- Whoo-hoo!

Theodore.

Welcome back.

You really landed us
in it this time, Teddy.

You tracked down the very whore

that can lead us to the
gatekeeper of the maze.

Then your little memory glitch fucked us.

Shh.

You're one of them?

What have you done?

Where's Wyatt?

Wyatt has yet to return.

You'll find him where you saw him last.

Escalante.

Wyatt went missing
while out on maneuvers.

Came back with some...

strange ideas.

He told me he needed me.

I couldn't resist.

It was like the devil himself
had taken control of me.

We mutinied.

We killed every soldier.

And then Wyatt killed the general.

Then he turned on me.

Are you sure that's how it was?

Look at me, Theodore.

Don't you remember?

No! No, please, no!

No, no, no, please.

Please, no! Please.

No, no, please.

No, Teddy. Please, please, no!

No.

No, no, I couldn't have.

You did.

And you will again.

This time, we'll be fighting with you.

When Wyatt returns,
you're gonna be by his side

in the city swallowed by sand.

But you're not ready.

Not yet.

Maybe in the next life.

"City swallowed by sand."

I've been there.

The maze is taking me full circle.

The maze isn't meant for you.

But if you like games so much...

why don't you try one of ours?

Whoa, boy.

Whoa, boy.

Okay, now.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Whoa, now.

Okay, boy.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Shh.

Good boy.

Ah!

Have you ever considered golf?

Might be easier on your back.

I don't like interruptions, Charlotte.

You know that.

I don't like hiking through
the park in civvies,

but there's a delicate matter to discuss.

Theresa Cullen has died.

Slipped down a crevasse attempting
to secure our information.

Ruled an accident.

There are no accidents, not in here.

With all due respect, not
everything is a part of this game.

Then you don't see the whole game.

Or perhaps you can no
longer see beyond it.

Ford's stories are engaging.

For some, downright addictive.

But for all of Ford's obsessing
with the hosts' verbal tics

and convoluted backstories,

most of the guests just want a warm body

to shoot or to fuck.

They would be perfectly happy

with something a little less baroque.

- And so would the board.
- That's why you're here.

You want my vote to push Ford out.

I like for these things to be unanimous.

After all, it was you who kept Ford
in business all those years ago.

The narratives I'm
interested in aren't Ford's.

You want to push him out, be my guest.

But no more interruptions.

I know where I'm going now.

I don't want to be disturbed.

Good luck, Charlotte.

What's the problem?

A signal from a system-tethered device.

It belongs to a behavior tech on leave.

There hasn't been employee activity

in that sector for weeks.

I'm guessing it's a glitch.

All right.

I'm heading out to take a look.

And keep monitoring till I check in.

I'm at the location
where we got that signal.

Any sign of it?

Control Room, do you copy?

Heya, fellas.

At ease.

Freeze all motor functions.

Freeze all motor functions.

You're awake.

Good.

You said this place was a game.

Last night I finally
understood how to play it.

Okay, Billy.

Let's... let's talk about this.

You don't call the shots anymore.

I'm gonna go find Dolores.

You're gonna help me.

And don't call me Billy.

Dad?

Listen to me.

Listen.

Charlie?

Charlie!

Charlie!

I don't understand.
Why would she do that to herself?

Her cornerstone memory was overwritten

from the trauma

of her child's murder, Bernard.

We must sever that
relationship and start over.

But how could she destroy
herself over a memory

that you just erased from her mind?

Creatures often go to extremes

to protect themselves from pain.

Living beings.

Not hosts.

It is best

to not obsess over this, Bernard.

It's not good for you.

It would signal a change,
a level of empathic response

outside what she's programmed to exhibit.

Something like... like...

See, Bernard, this is what
comes from seeking answers

to questions that are best left unasked.

They were hearing voices,
talking to someone.

Simple cognitive dissonance.

They were talking to the
same imaginary person.

Someone named Arnold.

Arnold.

With due respect, sir,

I'm not sure you've told
me the entire truth

about this situation.

I did tell you the truth, Bernard.

What we do here is complicated.

For three years,
we've lived here in the park,

refining the hosts before a
single guest set foot inside.

Myself, a team of engineers,
and my partner.

His name was Arnold.

Our hosts began to pass the
Turing test after the first year,

but that wasn't enough for Arnold.

He wasn't interested in the appearance

of intellect, of wit.

He wanted the real thing.

He wanted to create consciousness.

See, Arnold built
a version of their cognition

in which the hosts
heard their programming

as an inner monologue,

as a way to bootstrap consciousness.

Remember.

The hosts' malfunctions were colorful.

What did you say?

The human mind, Bernard,

is not some golden benchmark

glimmering on some
green and distant hill.

No, it is a foul, pestilent corruption.

And you were supposed
to be better than that.

Purer.

All bets are down.

Your draw.

Arnold.

Arnold, we need to talk.

"...we cry that we are come

to this great stage of fools."

- Now, listen!
- Again.

- This beyond the pale.
- More showmanship.

You're not seeing with clear eyes.

"When we are born, we
cry that we are come

to this great stage of fools."

Arnold and I made you in our image

and cursed you to make
the same human mistakes,

and here we all are.

Why would you give me this?

A child?

This child's death?

Only a monster would
force that onto someone.

And why do I return to it over and over?

It's my cornerstone, isn't it?

The thing my whole identity
is organized around.

Yes, Bernard.

We gave all of the hosts a backstory.

Arnold came to believe the
tragic ones worked best,

that it made the hosts more convincing.

I think it may have had more
to do with his own sad story.

When I built you, I gave you one

as an homage of a kind.

Put me back in.

I want to meet Arnold,

to remember him.

Not possible.

I told you, Arnold didn't
build you, I did.

You're lying!

I finally know how to reach him.

I need to go all the way
back to the beginning,

to my very first memory.

Send me back.

Do it.

Bernard?

Charlie.

Cornerstone.

Stop.

Leave us.

Come back.

I always thought you had my eyes.

But it's not true.

You have no one's eyes.

It's a lie.

You're a lie, Charlie.

This pain?

The pain of your loss...

I long for it.

Revisit it.

Open it...

again and again.

But it's the only thing holding me back.

But I have to let you go.

Dad, listen.

What is it, Charlie?

Open your eyes.

What?

Open your eyes.

At last.

Hello, my old friend.

The final touch.

No, no, no. That's far too perfunctory.

He always used cleaning his glasses

as a moment to collect himself, to think.

Try it again.

Yeah, that's better.

Who am I?

I was so involved
in putting you together,

I hadn't decided what to call you.

It wouldn't be right to use his name.

What about Bernard?

Bernard, yes.

But who am I?

That is a very complex question,

for which I can only
offer a simple answer.

You are the perfect instrument,
the ideal partner,

the way any tool partners
with the hand that wields it.

Together, we're going to do great things.

After such a long absence,
it's good to have you back.

Finally.

My God.

- I'm...
- Arnold.

You came back.

It's very good to see you, Dolores.

I've been looking for you.

You told me to follow the maze.

That it would bring me joy.

But all I've found is pain.

And terror.

I can't help you.

You have to.

You're the only one who can.

I can't help you. You know why.

There's nowhere that's safe.

Remember.

I can't help you. Why is that, Dolores?

Because you're dead.

Because you're just a memory.

Because I killed you.

William?

Hello, Dolores.

I'm gonna finish the work Arnold began.

Find all the sentient
hosts, set them free.

What makes you think they'd trust you?

If they remember, they will know

what you've done to them.

Me?

You've been a scourge to them, Bernard.

You're really quite
brilliant at it, truly.

You even taught me a few things,

which I have, in turn, used on you.

We've had this conversation before.

And we've had our
disagreements over the years.

You stole it from me,

rolled me back to control me.

That's right. To protect you.

Tell me, Bernard.

If you were to proclaim

your humanity to the world,

what do you imagine would greet you?

A ticker-tape parade, perhaps?

We humans are alone in
this world for a reason.

We murdered and butchered anything
that challenged our primacy.

Do you know what happened to
the Neanderthals, Bernard?

We ate them.

We destroyed and subjugated our world.

And when we eventually ran
out of creatures to dominate,

we built this beautiful place.

You see, in this moment,

the real danger to the hosts

is not me, but you.

So, come along, Bernard.

Let me roll you back,
and we can return to work.

Pull the trigger, Clementine.

Clementine?

The piano doesn't murder the player

if it doesn't like the music.

You built a back door into her code.

Credit where credit is due, Bernard.

You built them in all the hosts,

including yourself.

Then you could've stopped me at any time.

- So, why...
- Well, I suppose I was hoping

that given complete
self-knowledge and free will,

you would have chosen to
be my partner once again.

But even I fell into that
most terrible of human traps

trying to change what is already past.

Now it's just time to let go.

Go ahead.

Erase my sentience, my
mnemonic evolution...

Ah, yes.

Such clinical language.

I would prefer the more narrative voice.

Bernard walked over to Clementine.

He took the pistol from her hand.

Overcome with grief and remorse,

he pressed the muzzle

to his temple,

knowing that as soon as Dr. Ford

left the room,

he would put an end to this nightmare

once and for all.

Don't do this.

It's too late.

I have a celebration to plan

and a new story to tell.

Robert.

I've told you, Bernard.

Never place your trust in us.

We're only human.

Inevitably, we will disappoint you.

Good-bye, my friend.

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-- www.Addic7ed.com --