Original subtitles

By the tartan of clan MacGregor,

it is most impressive and sinister as well.

Excuse me, officers.

How do I go to "La Bove de la Damoiselle"?

La Bove?

That place has been shut up for years.

It's all right. I have a key.

In that case take the second right and go up the hill to the church.

It's right next door.

Thank you. Goodnight to you.

He's from Paris and has a key to La Bove.

How odd.

There's always been something funny about that house.

They say that years ago it used to belong

to a certain Professor Miloch, a lunatic.

He was the mad scientist who invented a machine to control the weather.

There was a bad accident.

His laboratory blew up and he disappeared.

I see. That must be the damsel.

Hmm. Not very inviting.

Ahh.

Old Miloch was a madman, but he could plan ahead.

"Dear Blake, Dear Mortimer,

To lay hands on your fabulous inheritance,

you must one: go down to the cellar.

You will find the door at the back of this room.

Two: Stand facing the small statue

and stamp hard on the round flagstone."

Hmm...

Where's that light coming from?

"Three: Go down the stairs and into the crypt.

And there, gentlemen, is where you'll find your fabulous inheritance."

Much ado about very little in my view.

But we'll see...

Ah!

I'm trapped like a rat.

Marvellous.

Can this be... the legacy?

I say...

What?

This device is a machine to travel through the ages.

Who's that?

You see before you the most amazing invention

in the long history of humankind.

May I present: the Chronoscaphe.

Where are you? Show yourself.

This device can transfer two people to whatever era they choose,

past or future.

That's Miloch. A tape recording.

He set all of it up.

It's all yours, gentlemen. Try it out.

I guarantee that you'll find it a fascinating experience.

Oh, yes, remember to put on your spacesuits.

They're over there to your right.

Dear Francis,

when you return from your case,

you'll be surprised to learn that Professor Miloch,

who died last week,

bequeathed his last invention to the two of us.

I can't wait to find out what it is,

so I leave for France today.

Join me as soon as you can.

Good old Mortimer.

He's never understood that curiosity killed the cat.

This "legacy" might very well be a trap.

Hello?

When is the next flight for Paris, if you please?

If Blake could see me now.

But why not? I'll take the risk.

Fine, gentlemen. Now your helmets.

This, too. You never know.

That's right. Now fasten your seatbelts.

Close the cockpit and push the blue button.

Good. This is how the machine operates.

It's very simple.

There's a dial on the dashboard to choose the era.

The pilot has two levers:

a red one to take off...

That's right.

...and a yellow one to stop the process.

Now, I imagine Professor Mortimer has taken control, as usual.

Ready, professor?

Enter the date, past or future, where you wish to go.

Punch it in on the time selector using the usual digital format.

It's quite simple.

Oh dear, if Blake could see me now.

Let's go back six months. Just to test the machine.

You've chosen the era you wish to visit.

Now all you have to do is pull the red lever.

Go for it.

Enjoy yourselves, gentlemen. Bon voyage!

But, that's a Williamsonia,

extinct for over 150 million years.

Ladies and gentlemen, we have landed at Orly Airport, Paris.

It is 6:30 p.m., local time.

That scoundrel, Miloch, sabotaged the time dial of his Chronoscaphe.

And here I am now stuck here all by myself,

a hundred million years before humans evolve.

Uh-oh.

Get away you flittering twits.

Ach. Now I've done it.

Dear. That's a long way down.

Ah. There.

What on earth?

Let me out of here!

No! Don't!

A tyrannosaurus!

It might as well be a pea shooter.

Let's at least try for the 20th century.

Odd.

The colors are unreeling in reverse.

Maybe there's a colour for each epoch.

Could that be?

Where in blazes am I?

I'll have to chance it.

Back in the crypt.

That was frightening.

But... where's the platform?

Ah-ha. Light.

Let's check it out.

How much further?

I don't believe it.

You are naught but rascals and foul thieves ready to steal all my goods.

My goodness. Now, I'm in the Middle Ages.

Hang them both in the public square.

It'll set an example.

You want them hanged because two hares were poached on your land?

My lord, they're children.

In the name of Mary, mother of us all,

forgive them.

Never! How dare you defend these rascals?

Their kin are in arms against me. Take them away.

He's a fiend. A savage.

By the horns of Beelzebub, who is this clown?

A spy? Here in my own castle?

Lord defend us.

I am Philip Mortimer, from London.

English? And come from the secret passage?

Thou foul traitor. Lay hands on him!

Easier said than done.

And you are naught but a coward to attack two poor bairns like that.

Lay hands on him, I say,

and let him be hanged with the others.

My fencing skills came in handy.

After him!

Luck is on my side, for the moment.

Stop him! Stop him!

Please, sir, don't kill me.

Of course not, lady.

- Who are you? - Open this door!

I... I am Agnes,

daughter of Guy de la Roche, lord of this castle.

The statue. It's you, isn't it?

My father ordered me to stay here.

I'm afraid of them. The Jacques are going to sack the castle.

The Jacques?

I'm caught in the middle of the peasants' revolt of 1358.

I'm stuck in 14th century.

Here they come. I shall be killed.

- Set on the flame! - Burn down the castle!

Burn them all!

Down with the lords! Down with them!

Follow me!

Throw down your arms. You're outnumbered.

We won!

We won! Yeah!

They're cooling off.

The place is ours.

We're free, free at last!

Open the door!

Despicable! I loathe them.

Stand aside.

Go and hide on the balcony and stay there, whatever happens.

Now, brothers, the treasure is ours.

Wait! Who's he?

He's a lord, that's enough.

And clad in heathen garb. He's an enemy.

Take the treasure and welcome,

but do not touch Agnes de la Roche.

I will defend her.

What a flower of chivalry we have here.

Who are you anyway, stranger?

My name would mean nothing to you, but...

He's a killer, like all the others!

I'm not your enemy.

He speaks the truth.

He risked his life to save the children from the gallows.

Oh. Alright then.

Let's make a deal you and me.

Single combat, face to face.

If you beat me, you'll go free.

You'll move on with Agnes and you'll get to take the treasure.

Do you agree?

Bare hands? You're on.

Poor dolt.

He little knows what awaits him.

He'll be ground into grist for the mill, like the rest of them.

I'll wring your neck like a chicken, you clown.

Love judo. It works everytime.

So, my hearty, admit it.

Admit that you're vanquished.

May the devil take you. Yes, I can do no more.

Remember what your leader promised.

We go free, with the treasure.

I'm sure he rented this car.

There's no other way he could have got here from the airport.

"One: Go to the cellar.

The door is at the back of this room."

The secret passage was closed when I got here,

so, then if Mortimer explored the place,

the door must have closed behind him automatically.

And so... watch out.

Good. Just what the doctor ordered.

Now I know it can't snap shut on me.

Nice work, captain.

Caught like a rat in a trap. Just like Mortimer, I imagine.

Mortimer?

Mortimer?

That's his coat. I'd know it anywhere.

Maybe he left me a note.

Only Miloch's will, nothing else. That's no good.

Now let me think.

Mortimer must have changed into a suit like this.

And Miloch left this one for me.

This can't be Miloch's legacy, can it?

I simply don't understand.

What's this platform for?

Cables. Where do they lead?

Well, well. How interesting.

That damn foreigner beat me with witchcraft.

He's a sorcerer straight from hell.

Lay them by the heels, him and his accomplice.

Wake up, you stupid fools!

He's getting away!

Quick, this way.

Take care. And may God keep you.

Come on, fast.

What can these cables be connected to, I wonder?

I don't see what...

There's nothing but stone.

Except for that ring.

Let's try for the fun of it.

What is that contraption?

And where is it?

But... those columns... there behind the machine.

They look...

Bingo.

They're exactly the same.

Astonishing.

Let's see where there...

No, I don't believe it.

1358?

And the device is actually in the crypt.

But in the 14th century?

Courage, Agnes.

Mortimer.

But... who's that with him?

Sit down, lady, and fast.

Where are we going, lord?

Death to the sorcerer! Death to the sorcerer!

But I don't understand... Unbelievable.

Trust me.

You want witchcraft? Then here.

His hand spits flame.

Lord save us.

I told you so.

He was a devil sent from hell.

What's going on?

Where are we bound?

I wish I could answer you, Lady Agnes, but I can't.

This craft is totally out of control.

I'm doing my best, but...

Good grief, what can I do?

I must try to control this... devilry.

They have nothing to lose, that's for sure.

Ah-ha, the eighteenth century.

Luck is on our side.

Stay calm.

If I have it right,

the next time the blue shows up, I have to...

Oh, no.

Ah. They're coming closer.

By the tartan of clan MacGregor,

all the systems are down.

We're done for.

Just hang on for another minute. We're almost there.

Good grief.

Me... or my ghost?

Good heavens.

Mortimer!

Mortimer!

Mortimer!

Blake?

Are you all right?

Your friend looks in poor shape.

Alive, but only just.

Have a good trip, professor.

Enjoy the ride, captain.

Good grief, who set the blasted thing going again?

I've no idea.

And where is it taking us now?

How would you like a short visit to the 32nd century?

You'll love it.

Francis, Agnes?

Wake up!

The Chronoscaphe has stopped.

We've landed in a new world.

And it doesn't look very promising.

Where am I?

And who might you be, monsieur?

Why, um... I was about to ask you the same question, ma'am.

Monsieur Francis Blake, may I present Lady Agnes de la Roche,

daughter of the lord of this castle, in the 14th century.

I fear your home is greatly changed.

Changed? But why? What is this place?

It's the crypt of La Bove,

beneath your castle.

But I haven't the faintest idea what year it is.

You do but jest, monsieur.

Alas, no.

Look at that!

At the top of the ladder.

There's an opening. It's worth a try.

Mortimer, I think this is hardly the time to go exploring.

Come on, Blake. Help her up the ladder.

Welcome to the wonderful world of the future.

Enjoy your stay.

Best of luck.

This looks promising.

Let's see what's down here.

A subway?

There's a subway in La Roche-Guyon?

There used to be one.

Judging by its state it's in,

a disaster struck at least a century ago or more.

But who knows? There's no way we can tell.

Monsieur Philip, what is this, this "subway"?

It's a... Well, it's a... a means of transportation.

It replaced the ox-cart and the horse-drawn carriage.

You see, Agnes...

Lady Agnes, we must tell you the truth.

Since the Middle Ages...

The Middle Ages?

Yes, you see, you were born and lived...

or used to live, I should say,

in a period called the Middle Ages.

I don't know if they still call it that... in this day and age.

Whatever it is, because you see, we must face facts,

Strange as it seems, Agnes, I'm afraid we've travelled to a new age.

Speak plainer, I understand you not.

Over here, come quickly!

We better do as he says.

Come and look.

I found stairs leading to another floor.

A giant reactor.

And it's almost intact.

An old nuclear power station?

That's right, old man.

But it looks as though it hasn't been used in years.

Good grief, Blake, what age are we in?

Be reasonable, Mortimer.

Come back to the Chronoscaphe

and let's see what we can do to return to our own time.

Are you afraid of the future, old chap?

Mortimer, stop playing with fire and come back to the Chronoscaphe.

Out of the question, Blake. Not right now.

I want to find out more.

He's incorrigible. Come, Agnes.

Francis, I'm afraid.

What a dreadful maze.

And wreckage everywhere.

The peasants who attacked my father's castle

never frightened me as much as this horror.

Stay calm, Agnes. I'm afraid you're in shock.

What on earth can have happened to the fate of humankind?

Nothing good, obviously.

Don't you understand, you stubborn Scot?

That humankind couldn't avert a nuclear war.

There was an apocalypse.

And there probably weren't any survivors.

Human beings...

in the forbidden city.

They must be spies.

We'll kill them.

What are we waiting for?

I'm seriously disappointed in you...

Monsieurs, up there,

something moved.

- See anything, Blake? - Nothing.

I'd swear to it. I saw shadows moving.

Something's still alive up there?

But that is marvelous. We must go and see.

Hands up, both of you.

Hands up, I said. Oh.

Your gun... throw it down.

His hair is red.

And the beard. I think it could be him.

The messenger? The savior?

What are they plotting?

- Where are we going? - To the master.

By what path did you enter the forbidden city, strangers?

Through the crypt, naturally.

What crypt?

Master, this man is an impostor.

- A threat to... - Gently, Ishma.

I think you are from the planet Pluto, aren't you?

From Pluto? What do you mean?

Master, they want to see the red-haired man.

I couldn't keep them out, Master.

- Look, there he is! - The prophet with the red beard.

- It's the prophet! - The savior!

I had no idea you'd be so popular.

It's beyond me, old man.

He's here, the messenger from outside.

- Yes, he has come! - Our liberation is at hand!

Yes, our liberation is at hand!

Yes, comrades. You are right.

But I must speak with this man.

I will tell you all that passes between us.

Now leave us.

- Yes, lord. - Yes, master.

Thank you, master.

Ishma, go with them and make sure they remain calm

while I am talking with these strangers.

Yours to command, master.

My name is Focas.

I am the head, on planet Earth,

of the Planetary Liberation Network.

We anxiously await the networks messenger from Pluto.

My men picture him with red hair and a red beard

because of the old saying, "Hair of red, tyranny's dead."

That's why they...

They think I'm this prophet come to save them

That's right.

If you're not from Pluto, where did you come from?

The 20th century.

You're not serious.

Indeed we are, Focas.

And Lady Agnes travelled even further,

from the 14th century.

I should have listened to Ishma.

You're nothing but impostors.

Wait, Focas.

Let us explain.

So they found their way in through the forbidden city, did they?

I don't believe it.

It's all a put-up job between Focas and those three visitors

to improve the morale of his partisans.

Hello, 308. This is 469.

308 here. Come in, 469.

A messenger, supposedly from Pluto,

has just arrived with two accomplices.

What orders?

What did you say?

April 12th, 3160, Focas?

Yes. That's the date today.

So, gentlemen, you've travelled through time

for more than a thousand years.

And Lady Agnes, more than two thousand.

If I'm to believe your wild tale about the...

What do you call the machine again?

The Chronoscaphe. You must believe us.

Must I? Your story is most unlikely.

But I... I think I believe you.

I choose to believe you.

You seem honest and loyal. Come with me.

I would like to show you...

exactly what happened to the world

during the ten centuries you've just skipped.

This is the town of La Roche-Guyon in the 22nd century.

Awful.

Dear Lord.

That's the way it was all over the world.

The planet was devastated by germ warfare and by nuclear war.

To stay alive, the few survivors were reduced to utter barbarism.

I can't believe it.

It's intolerable.

Fortunately, some humans managed to escape the chaos that was Earth

and take refuge on other planets, Pluto among them.

An interplanetary society gradually rose from the ashes.

And then what?

Alas, a totalitarian minority has taken over the whole galaxy

and now we languish under the yoke of the Supreme Power.

That's what we're forced to call it.

Its goal is to turn sentient humans into obedient robots.

So you organised a resistance movement, didn't you?

That's right.

We have allies on other planets, particularly Pluto.

But we've waited for their messenger for years.

My men thought you were he.

If we tell them the truth, the resistance is dead.

Would you pretend to be the messenger?

You've convinced me, Focas.

- Thank you. - I'm with you.

So am I, Focas.

My family had power.

But I am sad to see that, over the centuries,

powerful people have brought nothing but ruin and pain.

I am with you, Focas.

I thank you, my friends.

I have seen no women, no children. Where are they?

For security reasons, they must remain in their shelters.

How grim.

We'd better start by cleaning and checking the seals right here.

Yes, sir. Hey, you men, over here!

May I give you a hand?

Good day, Mortimer.

You're sure this antique won't blow us to kingdom come?

Focas, this "antique," as you call it, was built in my heyday.

I'm a nuclear physicist, remember?

Right. I came to bring you this.

I wear one just like it.

We'll be able to stay in touch safely.

What an odd thing. I will ask what it is.

Keep me abreast of your progress, professor.

But, of course.

I don't expect any problems in making the mini-bombs

you'll need for self-defense.

Monsieur Focas, I found this on the ground.

It's a police transmitter.

We're being spied on.

So, one of the workmen is a spy.

That's right.

82X to 65Y, do you read me?

Loud and clear.

I'm uneasy.

The Supreme Power has summoned me to the capital of the Earth.

I cannot refuse.

I must leave now. Where do you stand?

In good shape.

The first mini-bomb will be ready tonight.

Good luck, 82X.

Please state your identification code.

AFC0703.

Code verified.

The honorable Focas is expected in the C.O.T.

The C.O.T.? The Chamber of Truth.

I'm done for.

This way, honorable Focas.

This way.

Welcome, honorable Focas.

Hail, thou Supreme Power.

What do you wish from your humble servant?

That you tell us what you are plotting with the red-bearded subversive

and his two accomplices.

You refuse to confess? So be it.

I'll tell all. I swear.

I will tell you all, Supreme Power.

He should have been back long ago.

Has the master abandoned us?

Nay. Keep the faith, friends.

The master knows what he's doing.

He should never have gone.

He had no choice.

They would have suspected something if he'd refused the summons.

He'll be back.

There he is. The master's back.

Long live the master!

Long live the master!

Master, you're home at last.

We've been so worried.

The master has travelled far.

He needs to be alone.

The man looks brainwashed to me.

I think you may be right, old chap.

Let's get it straight. Now I'm in charge.

- Understand? - Yes.

You'll order your people to do exactly as I say on pain of death.

- Got that? - I've got it.

Now, call a meeting of the squad leaders of your liberation movement

and convince them.

The hour is near. We'll emerge onto the surface

to join our allies from other planets

in a final battle for liberation.

Master, it's too soon.

The police robots will attack.

How will we defend ourselves?

Hold your peace. Do you not trust me anymore?

Of course we do, Master...

Then that's enough.

All able-bodied fighters up to the surface.

As you command, master.

The Supreme Being planned it all.

When they stick there heads above the ground,

we'll wipe them out. Everyone.

To arms! To the surface!

By order of the master, everyone to the surface!

The battle begins!

What's going on? This wasn't in the plan?

They've gone mad.

65Y to 82X.

Hello? Come in, 82X.

Focas doesn't answer. Oh, that's bad.

Blake, Mortimer.

Look there, on the ground.

Police bugs.

And that's Ishma's coat.

The traitor. We must go up.

We have a couple of mini-bombs. Let's take them too.

Good thought.

Forward! Death or glory!

We have to stop them, or they'll be massacred.

Come back under cover.

The red prophet! Wait!

The red prophet is signalling to us!

Quick, Focas, speak to them.

He is a false prophet. Do not heed him.

Focas, get a grip on yourself.

You're being manipulated by this traitor.

How dare you say that, stranger?

Here is the proof.

Police transmitters to spy on us.

I'm done for. They're aiming at the bugs.

Agnes, Blake, Mortimer.

What happened?

You were hypnotized.

Here they come! Run! Run for cover!

Save us! What have I done?

Not now. Into the shelter, fast!

Give me that. Now, load it man!

- But-- - It's worth a try. Do it!

Hooray!

Long live the liberator! Down with the tyrants!

Master, a message.

Our allies on the other planets finally heard our call.

They're invading from Mars and Pluto.

They'll be here in one hour.

So, if we can hold out for one hour more, we'll have won.

What is that disgusting thing?

They call it the "Thing". It's their ultimate weapon.

Run for shelter!

One...

two...

Three.

It didn't work.

Let's get out of here!

Blake, on the sole of your boot.

That's why the Thing keeps after us.

Don't lose it. We could use it.

Stick it on here.

By the sweet waters of Loch Lomond, it's working.

I doubt if we need to worry about the Thing anymore.

Focas?

Mortimer, Blake, our allies from space have arrived.

- We have defeated our foes. - And we're free.

So, Agnes, you prefer the 32nd century?

Yes, I wish to live in this world.

You two brought me here. I'm eternally grateful.

Good luck, Agnes. Good luck, Focas.

Well, are you ready to go back to modern times, old man?

Can you get us there?

I'd never trust this instrument.

But I do trust my luck.

Besides... I have an idea.

Oh, dear. What is it?

When you brought us back from the Middle Ages, old chap,

I saw a ghost.

My own ghost appeared in the Chronoscaphe

just a fraction of a second

before we reached the present.

I get it. You're going to watch for your ghost

and then slam on the brakes. It just might work.

My motto is, it's worth a try.

Well, well. Can they be back in the machine?

Confound it.

They're heading back towards the 20th century at top speed.

So, now, there's only one thing to do:

destroy the machine.

Don't miss your ghost, will you?

Quiet, I'm concentrating.

Now, the auto-destruction mode.

I've made it much too complicated. It's taking far too long.

Oh, no!

So all three survived? Well.

I always suspected the one with the beard.

I heard that he was a professor.

The poor man. He's in a bad way.

Is he the professor?

There were two professors.

- So which is he? - I don't know.

It's an odd name, a foreign name.

They both had foreign names.

So that maniac, Miloch, wasn't dead after all.

He's not dead even now.

The surgeon assured me he'll recover.

By the tartan of clan MacGregor.

It's good just being alive in the here and now.

You kept that?

Yes, of course. Didn't you?

Yes, certainly.

It's an intriguing souvenir.

And it's indisputable evidence of our travels through time.

I'll wager no one believes the story.

I mean, would you?