Original subtitles

Fuck.

- Yes? - I'm Anna.

The server for your party tonight.

I'm the help.

Happy New Year.

Anna, are you burdened by debt?

You're finally here. I've been calling and calling the agency.

- Annie, is it? - Anna, yeah.

Sorry, my bike's busted, so I had to walk.

Put your stuff here.

- I trust you brought something to wear? - Yeah.

Alpha, centennial playlist.

We don't normally eat like this.

Mind you, it's only because of New Year's Eve.

This food cost us six months of our carbon credits, and we're not rich.

You'll get a tip, of course. Just don't expect it to be--

It's going to be disappointing.

What else? Champagne's there. Hors d'oeuvres over there.

And we'll get you out in time for your own party, I promise.

I don't have--

Auggie?

Tomorrow morning?

It's always better to start fresh.

- To let you know, it will probably be on... - Auggie?

- Did you say something? - No. That's my wife.

- August Bolo, where have you gone? - Does that mean you're reconsidering?

No, no.

Our guests will be here any minute, dear.

No second thoughts.

If you say so.

I need a real commitment here.

- Auggie? - I'll be ready.

I've been searching all over for you. Playing Unicorn Capture again?

What? I don't even like that game anymore.

What? A guy can't just sit on the floor of his own closet?

- I'm not playing anything. - Yeah, this time.

Imagine you spent our carbon on something productive,

- instead of your virtual pets or games. - Or investments.

500 shares in a company that was going to invent self-walking socks.

Those socks were a good idea.

Sure, until the prototype walked someone off a cliff. Oops.

It was a bridge, and it was poorly marked, and it was badly lit.

Anyway, you're the one who's using all of our carbon points

for this little soiree tonight.

Why are you so dressed up?

It's New Year's Eve, and you're sitting in a closet.

At least I'm still trying to, for you, for us, to make things festive.

I'm festive.

You are not festive.

You think you know me. You don't know what I--

What?

What don't I know?

- What? - Just saying.

Forget it.

They're here.

And Auggie, put on some pants.

You're here. You made it!

- Hi. - Eloise.

- Elodie. - Right.

Was the last one an Eloise?

Eleanor.

Thank you so much for having us. This is--

- We don't-- - Elodie is trying to bring back hugging.

- It's so natural. - Yeah. No, we don't touch.

- Anybody? - Anybody.

Okay.

- I love your dress. I love vintage. - Thank you.

Let me take your oxygen.

- I have a girl here. - Here you go.

She's a bit of a mess. Excuse me.

- Annie! - Wow.

- Can I get some help with these? - Yes.

- Thank you. - Yes.

What is that? Does she have that thing?

The chip, yeah.

Sweetie, didn't we talk about this?

Your apartment just got 6,000 bangs.

7,000, 12,000.

Is that an ad? I hate that.

Okay, drinks! Annie, please.

It's micro-engineered grapes from the last decarbonized bubble in Napa.

Yum.

What a treat.

It tastes like armpits.

I've heard that actually.

That's the Napa terroir, darling.

You've probably never had anything to eat or drink

that wasn't made out of kelp.

No disrespect to the kelp farmers in our midst.

None taken. It's a good business.

So, how did you two meet? Did you know it was true love?

We did.

He was the most interesting man I'd ever met.

I always believed August was destined for greatness.

And she's been disappointed ever since.

What do you do?

- Well, first, he tried wind. - I--

Of course, there's no more wind.

Then solar. Well, that went bust too.

It's not my fault that there's no more wind or sun.

It's not my fault that we're drowning in smoke and fog on this desiccated planet.

It's not my fault, Sylvie. It's not my fault.

It's no one's fault truly, is it?

How did you two meet?

Auggie was my mentor.

I idolized him. A visionary who had all the skills.

Not to mention, a gorgeous young wife.

Taught me everything back when I worked for the government.

Back when I still believed in the government,

along with Santa Claus and binary systems.

When are you getting in the private sector, Aug?

You're wasting away in municipal filtration. A cog in the machine.

Time to get out.

You're right. I should get out.

I have a friend.

Guy's a tech trillionaire in New Zealand. He's bailing on the whole thing.

"Bailing"? What do you mean?

Well, planet's unlivable clearly. So, he and his wife signed up to digitize.

I've heard of it. You upload yourself or something.

And they store you in the cloud until the planet heals itself.

Whatever that means. Blue skies, clear lakes, breathable air.

At which point, they magically reanimate you

into this decarbonized utopia in a body of your choice.

Are people really signing up for this nonsense?

People will sign up for anything. Moon colony, teleportation.

Nobody ever went broke betting on humanity's misguided optimism.

I heard it worked in a dog.

More champagne.

- I think it's kinda cool. - Yeah.

The cloud sounds more interesting than what your generation calls reality.

Okay, I'm sold. What do we bring?

How does one dress for the cloud?

Is there room service? How's the view?

Come on. It's not a hotel, it's a storage.

They just put you to sleep.

Well, then I hope it's a very deep sleep,

and when I wake up, I wanna be in a 22-year-old body with 2.5% body fat.

You are fine as you are.

Yeah. Joke all you want.

I, for once, would love to wake up, magically, in a better world.

What makes you think the world's going to get better?

I mean, obviously, the sacrifice that everyone's making.

The rations, everything--

Human history is the story of one terrible catastrophe after another.

Most created by our own hopelessly incorrigible selfishness.

Well, the problem with beaming into the future is that wherever we go,

we'll have to take us with us.

Would you go?

The technicians arrive in the morning, first thing.

Oh, dear! We'd better get packed.

I'm honored to be here for your last night on Earth, guys.

How do we celebrate?

We are celebrating.

In fact, perhaps that's exactly what this is tonight.

A going-away party.

You see? I can be festive.

We're not falling for it, old man.

Unless you're suddenly worth in the trillions, and even then,

you can't get on a list.

Yeah.

Fifteen years ago, I invested in a small tech company.

The last one up in Marin before they all went bust.

LifePause.

But--

But nothing you've ever invested in has ever worked out, Auggie.

This did.

Alpha, play LifePause.

LifePause

Meet Buster, the world's first fully-uploaded being.

Just months ago, Buster was suffering from arthritis,

obesity, depression, and climate fatigue.

Using our groundbreaking neuromapping technology,

scientists were able to map Buster's entire consciousness

and bring the benefits to you.

For a long time, we thought consciousness lived in the brain.

Now we know being alive is a full-body experience.

Our exclusive nanotechnology maps every neuron of the gut,

the heart, the reproductive system, even the vocal cords

through a unique procedure called nanoslicing

to achieve a level of detail heretofore unimaginable.

After a consciousness is encoded,

it can be uploaded, stored in unconscious state,

even replicated infinite times,

and reactivated at any point in a pristine physical vessel of your choice.

Once this technology becomes widely available,

anyone who cares about our planet will digitize.

It's the only way to completely erase your carbon consumption

and experience the full wonders of our restored ecosystems

when you wake up.

Welcome to the "Same you, better world."

LifePause See you tomorrow

Stop! Stop this insanity.

- LifePause - Enough is enough. Please.

- See you tomorrow - Alpha, turn off.

Really, Auggie? It was funny at first, but you've taken it too far.

I told you, this is not a joke.

The idea that we would give up our entire lives at the drop of a hat

and beam into the unknown?

- Well, I knew you wouldn't go. - I wouldn't. You're right.

That's why I'm going without you.

Right. Wait, what?

There's only one ticket. And there was a lottery for the investors.

I didn't have a plus-one.

I'm sorry. I thought it was obvious.

- So you're-- - I'm--

Yeah, I'm going-- I'm gonna go alone.

Drinks. I think I need more to drink.

Can we get more champagne out here, please?

No, something stronger. Bottom cabinet.

Something stronger! Bottom cabinet!

You're saying you want to leave me for--

for-- for dogs and windsurfing?

No.

I'll take one too.

Me three. Thanks.

I think we should let you two talk.

Yes, we should just leave. Thank you so--

No, don't go. Please.

It's time to eat.

- Sylvie, I think we should talk. - No.

Auggie, I put this dinner together for us for New Year's Eve.

You're going to enjoy it.

Who knows? It may be your last.

Foie gras. From cloned geese in Palo Alto.

Perhaps you are not familiar.

What is it?

- It's liver. - Probably best just to enjoy it.

Farmers force-feed male ducks by ramming pipes of grain down their throats.

The birds' livers swell to ten times their normal size.

They're kept in cages covered in shit.

Some of them choke to death on their own puke

or tear out their feathers and attack one another.

Female ducklings are spared that.

Instead, they're tossed, still alive,

into grinders and ground into cat food.

Bon appétit.

Wow.

Wow. That's so inhumane.

Why think about it?

Funny how we call cruelty inhumane,

but really, what's more human than cruelty?

Right, Auggie?

But females turned into cat food.

- I mean, that's-- - Buck up, Elodie.

It's hardly a shock to see a female tossed aside.

You're young, but someday you'll find out what it feels like.

Okay, let's not--

Sylvie, you just don't understand.

I'm not tossing you aside. This is actually not about you.

Silly me.

My husband would rather be nanosliced than spend one more day in my presence,

and I mistakenly gather it's about me.

Well, I think what he's trying to say is--

I miss sunsets.

I wanna feel rain.

I wanna breathe real air without a mask.

I wanna eat something besides kelp

that doesn't cost me six months' carbon rations.

It's not that bad. I mean, my God, people have survived much, much worse.

Even in the worst of times, people could still look up and see the stars.

I want wilderness, Sylvie.

Everybody wants wilderness...

but we also want love.

Wilderness vanished years ago, Auggie.

You chose love.

- You chose love, kids, a family. - You guys have kids?

- Elodie, don't. - Yes, we do.

- No, we don't. - Yes, we do.

We don't!

I'm sorry. Did I say something?

- It's-- - I shouldn't have, right?

I should go after her.

No.

Let me.

Thank you.

I don't think he's really gonna go through with it.

- He adores you. - Who cares either way?

You don't mean that.

Oh, no?

What?

I was imagining how fantastic it would be

if they accidentally woke Auggie up in Buster's body.

Like, just trapped in there like... "I'm Auggie."

"I'm not a dog."

It'd serve him right, honestly.

Listen, Sylvie. You have every right to be angry,

but the truth is, I'd kill for what you guys have.

Please.

I bounce from person to person.

Elodie, Eleanor, Eloise. It's all the same.

Virtual, AI.

Even the real ones have the chip, so when they're having sex with you,

they're actually having sex with someone else in their mind.

They're searching porn or ex-boyfriends, or ex-girlfriends, or God knows what.

I used to not mind it, you know.

Cuts down on the pesky complications of intimacy.

But now I'm starting to feel like I might as well not even exist.

You wanna talk about digitizing?

I feel like I already have.

Did he tell you he was going?

I imagine he'd want to impress you,

the protégé who outshone him so completely.

No. No, I was as in the dark as you are.

Then I guess we're both sort of in this together, aren't we?

Both of us left behind.

You're drunk.

Are you--

Are you flirting with me?

So, I've been trying to get my art career off the ground for years now.

That's one of the reasons why I came here, 'cause Sylvie's an art dealer and...

And I personally like to work with discarded or found material.

- Right. - I love to work with dung

- because it just-- - Dung?

Yeah, because honestly,

if we don't find the beauty in our waste these days,

I mean, where will we find it, right?

I don't know.

I have to say...

I think what you're doing is very brave.

To just take a leap into the unknown. To completely erase your carbon footprint.

I don't know a lot of people that would be courageous enough

to do something like this.

I just think you have one problem.

What's that?

Well, you still love your wife.

I don't think we should make this night any more complicated than it already is.

I'm not talking about anything complicated.

You're not?

What I'm talking about, it's very simple.

Bodies in space.

Physical attraction.

Two lonely people finding each other.

Comforting each other.

Whoa. Whoa.

I'm sorry. I thought--

You know...

What?

I don't touch.

Yes, you don't. I forgot.

What about with Auggie?

I...

I can't remember when.

You say you want wilderness. You're already in it. You both are.

Fucking lost in the wild of human relationships.

The only way out of it is together. Right?

Maybe you're just doing this to see if she still cares.

Things haven't been good between us for a very long time.

And I know that times can always get better,

but, quite frankly,

I'm more optimistic that the Earth will heal than that we will.

So, no skin on skin?

So what are you proposing?

I want your spot on the lifeboat.

You wanna digitize?

From the four of us, I'm the one who should go.

I'm young. Sorry.

I'm strong enough to build whatever needs to be built.

I'm a joiner. I'm open-minded. I'm eco-conscious. I'm tech-savvy.

I have three million followers,

and everything I post gets two to three million bangs.

Yeah, but don't you have people or parents?

Or Nic? You got Nic.

It's no one that is worth passing up an opportunity like this.

The truth is I'm just broke.

I'm a dasher for my day job

and I strip online for black-market carbon, and I just--

I'm doing all of this just so that I can keep the lights on,

so I can do my art after work hours, but I just can't keep up.

I am meant for the future.

- Eloise. - Elodie.

Right.

Even if I wanted to give you this spot, which I actually don't, I couldn't.

It's nontransferable.

- Everything is DNA verified. - Okay.

Well, you can give me a fingernail or a hair of your beard.

Also, there's a very in-depth psychological evaluation,

which, no offense, but I don't think you'd pass.

What's in the evaluation?

Alpha, turn on LifePause.

- It's actually just a series of questions. - Okay.

How are you so beautiful?

You're so beautiful.

"Have you ever thought about harming yourself?"

"How many sexual partners have you had, and how were they?"

- I wish I could touch you. - But you can't.

"What is your favorite flavor of ice cream and why?"

Well, that's easy.

Mint chip. It's delicious.

"Have you ever been in love, and how did you know?"

"Are you spiritual?"

Oh, yes.

"If yes, what do you believe in?"

Oh, God.

"What would you do if you were suddenly faced

with an enormous brown bear?"

Oh, yeah, that-- Some of the questions are simulations.

Oh, my God!

It's holo. It's just a exercise, it's not real.

- Wait, wait. - No! It's--

- It's gonna kill me! - It's fine! Don't run!

It's-- Elodie!

No! Leave me, please!

Auggie? What's going on?

It's nothing. It's a psych eval for LifePause.

Elodie wanted to see it.

Alpha! Turn off LifePause!

What is it evaluating exactly?

I guess... basic survival skills in the wild?

Or maybe a person's ability

to distinguish between fantasy and what's real?

Obviously, you'd make a good candidate.

I wouldn't go.

I would never, ever go.

I wouldn't give up.

Sylvie, I--

I didn't wanna hurt you.

You didn't.

Okay, but listen. It's-- I guess,

I didn't think you'd care if I left or not.

How can you say that?

I didn't think there was anything left between us anymore.

Don't try to justify it.

Really. Please!

You gotta understand, this is as much of a shock to me

as it is to you, in a way.

I mean, I never imagined that it would work

and that I'd be picked for the lottery.

And, certainly, I hoped I'd get a chance to talk to you about it first.

But you never listen to me.

You barely even look at me anymore.

And I know I've disappointed you.

I know this is not the life that either one of us envisioned it to be.

I mean, I'm disappointed too.

But...

we could never communicate without fighting.

- Where's Elodie? - Nic, can you give us a minute?

Yeah.

Wait, don't go.

What?

No.

- What is it, buddy? - What?

Are you--

Did you--

No, you didn't. Did you?

What did--

I-- What?

You couldn't even wait until I go?

Auggie. It-- It's not what you think.

It-- It was...

She started...

it.

"She started it"?

What are you, six?

So, it's true?

No! I--

Okay, yes, but it was completely contactless.

- Right. - And, of course,

it's still stupid and awful.

- Well, I don't think it was-- - Shut up, Nic!

But it was only because you were--

I mean, we are both-- You're leaving us.

And-- And it happened!

Well, this is just perfect!

It's just really perfect!

You just had to have the final victory, didn't you?

One last kick to the face and then just send me on my way!

That's not what this was.

- Excuse me. - What is it?

I am sorry. Just, dinner is served.

Thank you.

Would you like some tomatoes, sir?

- No. - Okay.

Alpha, off.

I'd like to make a toast.

Okay, I think I'll just be-- Okay, bye.

A toast of gratitude, really.

See, it's my last night on Earth, in this particular era, anyway.

And honestly,

a part of me thought that it would be sort of a bland farewell.

Great meal, couple of funny stories.

Like that time we went on that karaoke bender,

until we sang every last song from the Blue Ivy Carter Holiday Album.

You had the whole audience transfixed by the sound of your voice.

You had me, anyway.

And so I thought, let's just let be bygones be bygones.

Bury a couple of our many hatchets.

Find some resolution for my time here, for our time here.

Because there were some good times.

But things have taken a turn.

Some might wonder if I'm angry.

It's my last night on Earth.

My wife fucks my friend.

Someone whom I've worked with and mentored.

I've always looked up to you. It was contactless.

The truth is, you both have given me a great gift.

If ever I had any doubt about digitizing, you have utterly squashed them.

You leave me now with zero regrets, no second thoughts,

nothing but excitement about what's to come.

So, I wanna thank you, both of you,

for making my decision to leave you forever

so absolutely and appallingly clear.

So, cheers.

To my darling Auggie,

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't, at times, fantasized about something like this.

What wife hasn't thought about how lovely it would be

to slowly slice up her husband like a giant, juicy melon?

So, thank you, Auggie, for ending our time so seamlessly,

and for once in your life,

planning and organizing something yourself.

I guess there's a lot to celebrate tonight after all.

- I also have something to say. - It's clearly not the time--

You're all fucking crazy.

He's crazy, she's crazy, and you're crazy for bringing me here.

We're over. That's all.

Well, I suppose if we're all making toasts,

I'll say a few words.

Auggie...

I'm sorry I had contactless sex with your wife on your last night on Earth.

It wasn't my intention to hurt you or ruin your evening.

It's fine. It was a drunken mistake.

No, that's the thing I wanted to clarify actually.

Yeah, I wanna say this.

This feels right.

This was no mistake for me.

I am-- I've always been in love with you.

Jesus Christ.

I've been in love with her for well over a decade now.

Since the first time I saw her, actually.

We have come close to hooking up a couple of times over the years.

No, we didn't.

At my dad's funeral.

Come on! It was just a hug. I felt bad for you.

And, of course, Sylvie's the reason I could never be with anyone else.

Not really. Everyone paled in comparison.

I don't think you're crazy for wanting to get the hell out of here,

but I do think you're crazy for leaving your wife.

An amazing, beautiful woman.

I hope that when Auggie's gone...

Jesus.

- Get him! Yes! - Auggie! No!

- The food! No! - Shut it! Don't even--

Cheating, wife-stealing--

- Auggie! - You stay away from my wife.

- I'll fucking kill you, you fuckface! - Get off of him!

Leave him alone!

- Get off of him! Get off of him! - No!

Enough!

Daddy? What's going on?

Go back to bed, Agnes.

What are you doing?

It's--

We're just playing a little game, honey. Funny, right?

Can I play?

No, sweetheart, you should be in bed. Let me take you back up, okay?

- They do have a child. - It's complicated.

No, sweetie.

- I'm gonna put her to sleep. - No, please don't do that.

- I have to. - Don't.

Agnes, go to sleep.

- I hate it when you do that. - I know. I hate it too.

But maybe it's time we all gave up our illusions.

I'll take her back upstairs.

- Is she a... - Yep. Infertility-bot.

I've never seen one so real.

I think you should go now.

- Sure. Of course. - Yeah.

Sylvie. Sylvie? I was talking to Auggie about maybe giving me his ticket.

I really wanna go.

You're young. You have time. One day, everyone will be doing it.

Yeah.

We need our oxygen.

Annie?

Sorry for the mess.

Not a problem.

And the food was delicious, really.

I didn't make it. I'm just the server. Freelance. Maid.

Do you have the chip?

No, I could never afford it.

I know a guy that does it for very cheap.

If you're okay with ads, yeah?

Here you go.

Happy New Year's.

Tell him to have fun up there.

I will. If he remembers how.

He was a good friend. Tell him I'm sorry--

I will. Bye, Nic.

- Sylvie, if there's a chance-- - Bye.

I--

It's okay, you can go up and turn in. I'll finish this up and let myself out.

It's New Year's Eve. Didn't you say you had somewhere to be?

No, nowhere.

The last heat wave wiped out my family and most of my friends.

I was a massage therapist in Burbank.

When there was a Burbank.

I'm so sorry.

Anyway, it's funny.

Your life looks pretty good to me.

Oh, yeah.

- Let me give you that tip. - No, you already said not to expect, so...

The least I can do.

Thanks.

I suppose you have to pack.

Or maybe you don't.

Do you have to pack?

Can I pack your voice?

No.

I sing to her every night, Auggie.

I know you do.

I know it's ridiculous.

I know she can't hear me.

It is not ridiculous.

You're going tomorrow, but the truth is, you left a long time ago.

And I don't blame you.

I've been cruel.

I get it.

You want wilderness.

You want to see stars.

Sylvie, I--

I don't want to go.

Don't.

Don't stay out of guilt or because you're afraid.

That's not it.

I just don't wanna...

I don't wanna...

give up on us.

Or this whole miserable planet.

I love you.

I love you too, Auggie.

What's that?

It's midnight.

Come on, let's go. Come on.

Part of this-- Come, I'll show you.

Happy New Year, Auggie.

Happy New Year.

A happy and healthy 2069 to all our friends in the Bay Area.

At this hour, prosecutors at the International Criminal Court in The Hague

are preparing additional indictments against individuals and corporations

accused of committing ecocide and other crimes against nature.

The tribunal on climate crimes

also reported that the proposed financial settlement

on the matter of environmental reparations

to first peoples in the southern hemisphere

has been rejected by lawyers from the Global North...

This, as the price of carbon is ticking up higher again

this morning in world markets,

with heavy trading in commercial credit and individual offerings.

- August? - Augustine.

It says ''male.''

I don't see how my gender identity is any of your business.

DNA sample?

Here. Just...

Okay. That works. You're good to go.