Original subtitles

Hullo, young Harding! You're early.

Yes, I had finished up. It was too late to start anything fresh.

What's all this fuss about in the papers tonight, Mr. Cabal?

- Wars and rumours of wars. - Crying wolf?

Some day the wolf will come. These fools are capable of anything.

- In that case, what happens to medical research? - It has to stop.

- That will mess me up. - Mess you up. Mess everything up.

My God, if war gets loose again...

Merry Christmas, everyone!

'While shepherds watched their flocks by night, All seated on the ground...'

What's the matter with you fellows?

Oh, that. This little upset across the water doesn't mean anything.

Threatened men live long, and threatened wars never occur.

Another speech by him.

I tell you there's nothing in it. It's just to buck people up over the air estimates.

Now why meet wars half-way? Why not look at the bright side of things?

You're all right, your business is going up, you've got a jolly wife, a pretty home.

All's right with the world, eh?

- All's right with the world. - Certainly!

Passworthy, you should have been called Pippa Passworthy...

And Cabal, you've been smoking too much.

You're not - you're not eupeptic...

Oh, come on, it's Christmas. 'No-el! No-el!'

'No-el! No-el!'

'Born is the King of Israel.'

Nice toys they have nowadays, nice toys.

The toys we had were simpler. Ever so much simpler.

Noah's Arks and wooden soldiers.

Nothing complex like these.

You know, I wonder sometimes if perhaps all these new toys aren't a bit too much for them.

It teaches them to use their hands.

And I suppose their grandchildren will see even more wonderful things.

Progress - progress -

I'd like to see - the wonders they'll see.

Don't be too sure of progress.

Oh, listen to the incurable pessimist.

What's to stop progress nowadays?

War!

Firstly, there isn't going to be a war, and secondly, war doesn't stop progress.

It stimulates progress.

Yes, war can be a highly stimulating thing.

But you can overdo a stimulant.

Oh, well, after all, aren't we exaggerating the horrors of war?

Don't we rather overdo that song?

After all, you know, the last war wasn't as bad as some people make out.

We didn't worry. Something great seemed to have got hold of us.

Something greater still may get hold of us next time.

If we don't end war - war will end us.

Well, what can you do?

Yes, what can we do?

Peace on earth, Goodwill to all men.

A real old-fashioned Christmas this year.

Fresh, a little snow, with a nip in the air.

What was that? It sounded like a gun.

No guns here.

Merry Christmas, Cabal - here's to another good year for all of us.

Another year of recovery, eh?

What are searchlights doing now?

Yes. Anti-aircraft manœuvres, I expect.

Well, it must be - anti-aircraft manœuvres.

Manœuvres at Christmas? No!

Listen. Guns again.

Yes? Cabal speaking.

The Hilltown air base at three? I'll be there.

- Mobilisation! - Oh God!

Perhaps it's only a precautionary mobilisation.

The unknown aircraft passed over Seabeach

and dropped bombs within a few hundred yards of the waterworks. They then turned seaward again.

By this time they had been picked up by the searchlights of the battleship Dinosaur.

Before they could mount out of range,

she had opened upon them with her anti-aircraft guns. Unfortunately without result.

- Of course everyone has said 'This time they'll start without any declaration of war.' - Oh, listen!

We do not yet know the nationality of these aircraft,

though of course there can be little doubt of their place of origin.

But before all things it is necessary for the country to keep calm.

No doubt the losses suffered by the fleet are serious.

- What? Losses of the fleet? - Listen! Listen!

And it is imperative that the whole nation should at once stand to arms.

Orders for a general mobilisation have been issued

and the precautionary civilian organisation against gas will at once be put into operation.

Ah - instructions have just come to hand.

We shall cut off for five minutes and then read you the general instructions.

Please call in all your friends. Call in everyone you can.

You've got your stimulant, Passworthy.

Something great has got you. War has come.

War has broken out suddenly.

There may be an air raid, but it is not likely to be a very serious one.

You must be prepared for it. The danger will not be great.

As soon as the danger is over, bugles will sound 'all clear'.

The streets will be dangerous.

Do not assemble in crowds. Keep indoors. Go home.

Those who are far from home, can take refuge in the underground railways.

Go home. Go home. Go home.

Get out of the squares. Get out of the streets.

Go home and stay calm.

Turn out all the lights. Close all the windows.

Put a wet sheet or a wet blanket over doors and windows.

My dear, my dear, are you sorry we - had these children?

No. Life must carry on.

Why should we surrender life to the brutes and fools?

I loved you.

I wanted to serve you and make life happy for you.

But think of the things that may happen to them.

- Were we selfish? - You weren't afraid to bear them -

We were children yesterday.

We are anxious, but we are not afraid.

Really.

Courage, my dear.

And may that little heart have courage.

Are you an officer, daddy?

Well, you've got to do our bit, you know, sonny. Got to do our bit.

I'm an officer too, daddy.

That's the spirit. Carry on, sir. Carry on.

Goodbye, son.

Quick march!

An air raid is approaching Everytown. An air raid is approaching Everytown.

Gas masks are being distributed.

Give them to those directly behind of you.

Get to cover. Get under cover at once.

... but our anti-aircraft gunners will speedily dispose of them.

Bad shape, eh?

Why has it come to this?

God, why do we have to murder each other?

Go, my friend. That is my gas.

It's a bad gas.

Funny even if I'm killed by my own poison.

Quick, get this on.

Here - get this on, quickly.

Give it to her.

I've given plenty to others - why should I not have some myself?

Give it to her. I'm done!

Breathe in and out.

I dropped the gas on her.

Maybe I've killed her father and mother.

Maybe I've killed her whole family.

And then I go and give up my mask to save her.

That's funny.

That - that's a joke!

Look! He's carrying infection!

Iodine, please.

Mary, iodine.

No more left, Father. This is the last drop.

God!

What is the use of trying to save this mad world from its punishment?

Oh, Father, if only you could get some sleep.

How can I sleep?

See how they wander out to die.

Why don't you shoot them?!

It's their lives or ours!

Let's get guards, make a cordon.

That's how they dealt with their pestilence in the Dark Ages.

- Richard! - My sister...

Gordon! How do you know?

Her heart beats fast, and she feels faint, and -

she won't answer.

What can I do for her? I thought something might be known.

Oh Janet! - and you, you poor dear -

- Richard... - I might be infected.

Is there nothing to make her comfortable?

Nothing.

There is nothing will make anyone comfortable any more.

No! Don't shoot!

Shoot, I tell you! Shoot!

That's the way to do it! Shoot 'em!

Mayday 1970

The Pestilence has ceased.

Thanks to the determined action of our Chief in shooting all wanderers

there have been no cases for two months.

The Pestilence has been conquered.

The Chief is preparing to resume hostilities

against the Hill People with the utmost vigour.

Soon we shall have Victory and Peace.

All is well - God save the Chief.

God save our Land.

- Have we any more insulated wire? - We've got no rubbered wire at all, sir.

- Any rubber - tape? - There's not a scrap left in the place.

We used the last on the other motor.

Oh, what's the use - there's no petrol anyway.

I don't believe there's three gallons of petrol left in this accursed ruin of a town.

What's the good of setting me at a job like this?

Nothing will ever fly again. Flying is over.

Everything is over. Civilisation is dead.

Hello.

- It's a Rolls, isn't it? - Yes - it's a good pre-Pestilence machine.

I oil it and turn it over at times.

You think it'll go fast some day? Still?

Oh, I'm not one of your petrol hoarders.

But all the same that engine turns over still.

Why, I remember when I was a lad - when it was new -

we thought nothing of going a hundred miles in it -

a whole hundred miles. Less than three hours I've done it in.

But all that sort of thing is all gone now -

gone for ever! Eh? - 'Fraid so.

- Richard! - What is it? - You won't think me mad?

- Why, darling? - I thought I heard an aeroplane this morning.

At dawn. I thought it was a dream, but -

Nonsense. I tell you flying is finished.

We shall never get in the air again. Never.

Hey, come on. The Boss.

- Look, the Boss! - The Boss is coming!

Long live the Boss!

- Anything to report, Gordon? - Nothing very hopeful, Chief.

I must have those aeroplanes - somehow.

I'll do what I can, but you can't fly without petrol.

I'll get petrol for you, trust me. You look after the machines.

I know you haven't got stuff - but you can get round that.

For example, transfer parts. Use bits of one to mend the other.

Be resourceful.

Give me only ten machines in working order. Give me only five. I don't want them all.

Then we can end this war of ours - forever.

I'll see you get your reward.

This your wife, Gordon?

You keep her well hidden.

Salutation, lady!

You must use your influence with our Master Mechanic.

The combatant State wants his service.

I'm sure my husband does his best for you.

That's hardly enough, lady. The combatant State demands miracles.

Not everyone can work miracles as you do, Chief.

Oh, I'm sure you could work miracles if you tried, lady.

Rudolf!

Lady, lady, I showed it to you, but you said you didn't want it.

If Wadsky has been up to his tricks again, he'll have to answer for them.

But he has been keeping things back from me again!

It isn't only Wadsky who keeps things back. What do you think of our Master Mechanic here -

the one who won't let me have those planes of mine to end this war of ours with the Hill Men.

Well, can't you make him?

I thought you could make everybody do everything.

Some things you can't do, Madam. You can't fly without petrol.

You can't mend machines without tools or material.

We've gone back too far. Flying has become a lost skill in Everytown.

- And are you really as stupid as that? - I'm as helpless as that.

- And now Chief - what are you going to do about it? - He's going to let me have those machines

and I'm going to let him have coal - stuff to make oil.

It's a lost skill. It is a dream of the -

There it is - you were right -

a plane once more!

Look! There he is!

He's shutting off - he's coming down.

What's the meaning of this?

Have they got aeroplanes before us?

And you tell me we couldn't fly any more!

While we have been fumbling, they have been active.

Here, some of you, you, and you, find out who this is and what it means!

There's only one man in it. Hold him.

Somewhere they can still make new machines.

I didn't dream it was still possible.

Yes, but who is the man? How did he dare come here?

Fetch him to the Town Hall. Guard his machine and bring him to me there.

Come along, Mary. I must see that machine.

Who's in control of this part of the country?

The Chief. What we call the Boss.

Good. I want to see him!

He sent me to arrest you.

You can't do that.

- But I'll come and see him. - Well, you're under arrest -

whether you'll admit it or not.

The country is in a state at war.

Well, come along. I know the way.

I remember this place well.

I used to live over there for years.

- Ever heard of a man named Passworthy? - No!

- Harding? - Yes! Doctor Harding!

Look, here he comes now!

So you're Harding.

I seem to remember - something about you.

You were a young man.

You are John Cabal! I remember you!

I used to visit your house! Here!

Endless years ago. Before the wars.

You're still flying?!

Your hair is grey but you look young enough!

How are things here? Who's in control in this place?

We have a chief - a war lord.

The usual thing. I want to look after your war lord.

Where can we go and talk?

My laboratory is the best thing. It's just over here.

Right.

Here! You can't go in there.

You're under arrest. You've got to go with me to the chief.

All in good time. I will see this gentleman first.

Well, you've got to go with me. Orders are orders. The Boss first.

Where is this man? Why isn't he brought here?

- He has gone off with Doctor Harding. - He has to be brought here. I must deal with him.

Here, you can't go to him. That's impossible. He must come to you.

Send another man for him. Send three men. He's got to be brought here.

So that's the sort of man your Boss is. Not an unusual type.

Everywhere we find these little semi- military upstarts robbing and fighting.

That's what endless warfare has led to - brigandage.

What else could happen?

But we, who are all that are left of the old engineers and mechanics,

have pledged ourselves to salvage the world.

We have the air-ways, what is left of them, we have the seas.

And we have ideas in common;

the brotherhood of efficiency - the freemasonry of science.

We're the last trustees of civilisation when everything else has failed.

I've been waiting for this. I'm yours to command.

Not mine. Not mine. No more bosses. Civilisation's to command.

Tell him he's got to come. If he won't come on foot,

well, we'll have to carry him.

I don't know what will happen to me, sir, if you do not come.

Well, what do you want to see me about?

Who are you? Do you know this country's at war?

At war? Still at it, eh?

- We must clean that up. - What do you mean 'We must clean that up'?

War is war. Who are you, I said?

The law. Law and sanity.

I am the law here.

I said law and sanity.

Where do you come from? Who are you?

Wings over the World.

Well, you know, you can't come into a country like this in this fashion.

I'm here. Do you mind if I sit down?

And now for the fourth time:

who are you? - I tell you - Wings over the World.

- That's nothing. What Government are you under? - Commonsense.

I belong to World Communications.

We just run ourselves.

You'll run into trouble if you try and land here in war time.

- What's the game? - Order and trade -

Trade, eh? Can you do anything in munitions?

- Not our line of business. - Fuel - spare parts?

We've got planes - we've got planes - I've got boys that have trained a bit on the ground.

- But we've got no fuel. It hampers us. We might do a deal. - We might.

I know where I can get some fuel. I've got my plans. Later.

But if you could manage a temporary accommodation - we'd do business.

World Communications helps no one to make war.

End war, end war.

I want to make victorious peace.

I seem to have heard that phrase before. When I was a young man.

But it made no end of war.

Now look here, Mr. Aviator. Let's see how we stand. Come down to actuality.

The way you swagger, you don't seem to realize you are under arrest.

You and your machine.

You'll find other planes looking for me - if I happen to be delayed.

We'll deal with them later.

You can start a trading agency here if you like. I've no objection.

The first thing we shall want is to get our planes in the air again.

Why, a laudable ambition.

But our new order has an objection to private aeroplanes.

- The impudence! - I am not talking about private aeroplanes.

Our aeroplanes are public aeroplanes.

This is an independent sovereign State. At war.

I know nothing about any old order.

I am the Chief here, and I am not taking any orders - old or new, from you.

- I suppose I've walked into trouble. - Yeah, you can take that as right.

Where do you come from?

I flew from our headquarters at Basra this morning.

We have some hundreds of new-type planes and we're building more, fast. The factories are working again.

We're gradually restoring order and trade in the whole Mediterranean area.

We're scouting this region now to see how things are.

You've found out.

This is an independent sovereign State.

- Yes, we must talk about that. - We don't discuss it.

We don't approve of independent sovereign States.

- You don't approve. - We mean to stop them.

- That's war. - If you will.

Well, I think we know how we stand.

Burton, take this man.

If he gives you any trouble, club him.

You hear that, Mr. Wings over your Wits?

My friends know my whereabouts.

If I don't come back, they'll send a force to find me.

Perhaps they won't find you.

- They'll find you. - They'll find me ready.

Take him to the detention room downstairs.

- Now was that wise? - Wise!

Yes, wise; to quarrel with him at once?

Quarrel with him! Confound him, he began to quarrel with me!

'We must clean that up!' - Clean that up! My war!

- There's things behind him. - Things behind him!

Some sort of aerial bus driver.

Standing up to me - like an equal.

So you lost your temper and you bullied him.

I don't bully. I just handle the men.

He's the first real aviator that has come this way for years.

Think of what that means, my dear!

You want aeroplanes, don't you?

You want your aeroplanes put in order?

A really clever man would have had some of those machines up long ago.

- I'm sure of it. - So along comes this stranger

who is going to clean me up.

And you expect me to hand my planes over to him, lock, stock and barrel.

- Why talk nonsense? You could have persuaded him - under supervision. - Supervision.

The sort of oafs I've got here to supervise him. He'd be too much for them.

Oh, well, of course, if he's gonna be too much for you, why don't you hang him

and hide his machine before the others are after you?

I don't agree with you. I don't agree with you.

Now this stranger hasn't taken me by surprise.

I knew he was coming.

Yes, I knew he was coming.

I felt this conspiracy of air bus drivers brewing somewhere in the world.

I felt they were getting ahead with their aeroplanes down there somewhere.

Very well. Now is our chance.

We've got this fellow bottled up. They won't even begin to miss him for days.

I've got everything fixed up now for an attack straight away on the Floss Valley

to the old coal and shale pits - where there's oil too!

Then - up we buzz.

Victory approaches. Your sacrifices have not been in vain.

Our long struggle with the Hill Men has come to its climax.

Our new victory at the coal pits

has brought a great supply of oil within our reach.

Once more we may hope to take the air

and look our invaders in the face.

We've forty aeroplanes,

as large a force, I venture to say, as any in the world.

This new oil can be adapted to our needs.

That's quite a simple business.

Nothing remains but a conclusive bombing of the hills.

Then for a time we can hope for a rich, rewarding peace,

the peace of the strong man armed who keepeth his house (Luke 11, 21).

And now at this supreme crisis

you, Gordon, our master mechanic, refuse your help.

- Where are my planes? - The job's more difficult than you think.

Half your machines are hopelessly old. You haven't twenty sound ones.

To be exact, nineteen. You'll never get the others off the ground.

The thing can't be done as you imagine it. I want assistance.

- What assistance? - Your prisoner.

Why, you want that chap in black, that - Wings over the World? You want him released?

He knows his business. I don't enough.

- Make him my technical adviser. - I don't trust you technical chaps.

- Then you won't get an aeroplane up. - I want those planes.

- What if you get him? - Then I want Doctor Harding out too.

- They're old associates. - I can't help that.

If anybody in Everytown can adapt that crude oil for our aeroplanes, it's Harding.

- If not, it can't be done. - We've had a bit of an argument with Harding.

He's the only man who can do this work for you.

Get him.

Undo his hands.

Well?

- Well, what? - The salute.

Damn the salute.

Never mind the salute now. We'll talk about that later. Now look here, let's see how we stand.

You, Gordon, are to undertake the reconstruction of our air force.

The prisoner Cabal is to be placed at your disposal.

Everywhere he goes he is to be under guard and observation. No relaxing on that.

Neither you nor him to go within a hundred yards of his aeroplane. Mind that!

Now you, Harding, will assist Gordon with this fuel problem

and place your knowledge of poison gas at our disposal.

I'll have nothing to do with poison gas.

You've got the knowledge - if I have to wring it out of you.

The State's your mother and your father,

the totality of your interests.

No discipline can be too severe for the man that denies that by word or deed.

Nonsense. We have our duty to civilisation.

You and your sort are driving us straight back to eternal barbarism.

- But this is pure treason. - I protest against being dragged away from my work.

Confound your silly war! Your war material and all the rest of it!

All my life has been interrupted and wasted and spoilt by war.

- I will not stand it any longer. - This is Treason - Treason.

- No, no, no. Stop that. - We have need of your service.

- Well, what do you want? - You are conscripted.

You're under my orders now and under no other orders in the world.

I am master here! I am the State.

I need fuel and gas.

Neither fuel nor gas.

- You refuse? - Absolutely.

I do not want to be forced to extremities.

May I have a word?

I understand you want all of those out-of-date crocks of yours which you call your air force,

to fly again - and fly well? - They shall.

With the help of that man - Cabal - you have in the cells, and Doctor Harding here -

you may even have a dozen of your planes in the air again.

You! You're a traitor to civilisation.

I won't touch it.

If you will give me your Cabal,

if you leave me free to talk with Harding,

I promise you you'll see your air force -

a third of it at any rate - in the sky again.

You talk as if you are driving a bargain with me.

I am sorry, Chief. It is not I who make these conditions.

This is the nature of things.

You cannot have technical services, you cannot have scientific help

without treating the men who give it you - properly.

That's what I've said all along!

You're bullying too hard, my dear. There's a limit to bullying.

Why! you can't make a dog hunt by beating it.

I want those planes.

I wanted to look at you.

I'm at your service, Madam.

You're the most interesting thing that has happened in Everytown for years.

- You honour me. - You come from - outside.

I'd begun to forget there was anything outside.

- I want to hear about it. - May I offer you my only chair?

You know - I am not a stupid woman.

- I am sure. - This life here - is limited.

War always going on and never ending.

Flags. Marching. Oh, I adore the Chief.

I've always adored him since he took control in the Pestilence Days

when everyone else lost heart.

He rules. He is firm.

Everyone - every woman finds him strong and attractive.

I can't complain.

I have everything that is to be had here.

And yet -

This is a small limited world we live in.

You bring in the breath of something greater.

When I saw you swooping down out of the air -

when I saw you marching into the Town Hall -

I felt: this man lives in a greater world.

And you spoke of the Mediterranean and the East,

of your camps and factories.

I've read about the Mediterranean and Egypt and Greece and India.

I can read - a lot of those old books.

I'm not like most of the younger people here.

I learnt a lot before education stopped and the schools closed down.

I want to see that world.

Skies, snowy mountains, blue seas, sunshine, palms.

If I had my way - you could fly to all that in a couple of hours.

If you were free... And if I was free.

I don't suppose any man has ever understood any woman since the beginning of things.

You don't understand our imaginations. How wild our imaginations can be.

I wish I were a man. Oh, if I were a man!...

What are you people trying to do to us?

What are you going to do to this Boss of mine?

The immediate question seems what does he mean to do to me?

Something violent and foolish - unless I prevent it.

That's how I see things.

And if he kills you -?

We shall come here and clean things up.

But if you're killed - how can you say we?

We go on. That's how things are,

we are taking hold of things.

In science and government - in the long run -

no man is indispensable.

The human things go on.

We - for ever.

I see. And this war-like State of ours here?

It has to vanish. Like the Tyrannosaurus and the sabre-toothed tiger.

Ah, so here you are!

I said I should talk to him, and I have.

I told you to leave that fellow alone.

Yes, and sat up there drinking and swaggering and looking as proud as you could.

Rudolf the Victorious!

And here am I trying to find out what this black invader means.

Do you think I wanted to come and talk to him - this grey cold man?

While you are swaggering here, there are more planes away there at Basra getting ready.

- Basra? - His headquarters. Have you never heard of Basra?

These are matters for us to talk about.

This lady has been putting me through a severe cross-examination.

But the gist of it is - that away there in Basra new aeroplanes are rising night and day

like hornets round a hornets' nest.

What happens to me, is a small affair.

They'll finish you.

The new world of united airmen will finish you.

Listen! You can almost hear them coming now.

- Not a bit of it! - What he says is the truth.

- What he says is bluff. - Make peace with the airmen and let him go.

That means surrender of our sovereign independence.

But more machines will be coming, and more and more.

And he's here - hostage for their good behaviour.

Come, Madam. Enough of this little - diplomatic mission of yours.

You've got the subtlety of a - bullfrog.

Yes. I don't know what she has been saying to you.

I don't much care.

There's no making peace between you and me.

It's your world or mine, and it's going to be mine.

Roll your threats of - swarms of hornets and so on -

You're a hostage. Remeber that.

And don't be too sure you'll win.

So just sit here and think that over, Mr. Wings over the World.

Now get round to the other side and look at these engine barrel bracings, quickly.

If I could get to my plane. There's a wireless there.

- Hopeless... They won't even trust me. - We shall have to make a job of this.

- I could manage to get your reserve petrol. They'll let me have that for this plane. - Good.

It won't be easy to make a get-away.

These oil pump connections aren't very good. We will have to risk it.

- I think we'll manage it all right now that Harding knows his part of the job. - Good.

Look! It's your Gordon, he's flying at last.

Look! An aeroplane out of the box, boys!

It's pre-war!

- Where do you come from? - I come from the north, sir, from Everytown.

- He says Cabal is a prisoner. - They've got him, sir. He's in danger.

- I had great difficulty getting here. - You say Cabal is in danger?

A very grave danger. The Boss there is a violent tough.

- A job for our new squadron. - Now we've got a chance to try the new Gas of Peace on somebody.

There's no time to lose. Am I to report to Headquarters?

Yes. Take him to the Council.

- At last we have definite news. - What is it?

Gordon didn't fall into the sea. He got away.

A fishing boat saw him making for the French coast.

- Perhaps he reached his pals. - Well? - Well, he'll be coming back. He'll be bringing the others with him.

Curse these World Communications.

Curse all airmen and

gas men and machine men!

Why didn't we leave their machines and their sciences alone?

I might have known. Why did I tamper with flying?

Well, we needed aeroplanes - against the Hill State.

Somebody else would have started in again with aeroplanes and gas and bombs

if we hadn't. These people would have come interfering anyhow.

Why was all this science ever allowed? Why was it ever let begin?

Science! - it's the enemy of everything that's natural in life.

I dreamt of those fellows last night. Great ugly black inhuman chaps.

Half like machines.

- Bombing and bombing. - Yes, I guess they'll come bombing, all right.

Then we'll fight 'em. Since Gordon got away I've had those air boys up to see me.

They've got guts. They'll do something still.

We'll fight 'em. We'll fight 'em. Huh! We've got hostages...

I'm glad now we haven't shot them anyway.

There's that chap Harding...

Of course! He can tell us what to do against this gas.

If I have to pull his arm off and knock his teeth down his throat.

- Get him - get him. - Get Doctor Harding!

They have to come to earth sometime.

What is this World Communications?

A handful of men like ourselves.

They're not magic.

To you I entrust these good, tried, tested machines.

You are not mechanics - you are warriors.

You have been trained not to think, but to do -

maybe - to die.

I salute you - I, your Chief.

What do you know about these World Communications people? Have they gas? What sort of gas?

- I know nothing about gas. - Tell us about these masks, anyway.

They're rotten! They're no good at all.

What sort of gas have they got?

I tell you gas isn't my business.

Well, they can't gas us when you are here anyway.

Here they are. Listen. They're coming already!

We're there. Tell them to stand by.

Clumsy great things! Our boys will have them down in no time.

They're too clumsy.

What! - only six of us up. Where are the rest of our fellows?

Go on - up at him.

- Poor boy - it's got him. - They're both coming down. Cowards!

But they can't use gas - when we have hostages.

The hostages! I'm not done yet.

Go on, fetch them, bring them out here out in the open.

Tie 'em up where they can be seen.

Where's the other fellow? He's the Prize Hostage. He's the best of the lot.

They'll know him. Fetch him - fetch him...

Look! Is that gas?

You won't get out of this.

- You? - Don't you see we're beaten?

Shoot them - what are you all doing - why don't you move?

I never did you any harm. I saved your father and I saved you.

Couldn't you call up to your man there - to stop this...

I won't have it like this.

What's happening?

Everything's swimming.

Shoot. Shoot.

We've never shot enough yet.

We've never shot enough.

We spared them. Now they've got us.

Our world or theirs.

Why should I be beaten like this?

Shoot! Shoot!

Shoot! Shoot!

There they are!

Mary!

Mary is not hurt.

She's asleep like the others.

Cabal's safe!

- Cabal! - Well done, Gordon!

Well, they laughed at me for sticking to my gas mask.

But thanks to that I'm here and everyone else is sleeping.

- I wonder if they'll ever use gas masks again. - Sir!

What is it?

This man's not sleeping. He's dead.

Dead and his world dead with him. And a new world beginning.

Poor old Boss here, and his flags and his follies.

And now for the rule of the Airmen

and a new life for mankind.

Our job is only beginning.

For now we have to put the world in order. It'll be a long and complicated struggle.

But we have the unity of a common order and a common knowledge.

This is how I conceive our plan of operations.

First a round-up of brigands,

that last dismal vestige of ancient predatory soldiers,

the last would-be conquerors.

Then settle, organise, advance. This zone, then that.

And at last Wings over the World

and the new world begins.

Do you realise the immense task we shall undertake

when we set ourselves to an active and aggressive peace,

when we direct our energies to tear out the wealth of this planet

and exploit all these giant possibilities of science

that have been squandered hitherto upon war and senseless competition?

We shall excavate the eternal hills.

We shall make such use of the treasures of sky and sea and earth

as men have never dreamt of hitherto.

I would that I could see our childrens' children

in this world we shall win for them!

But in them and through them we shall live again.

Is it a better world than it used to be? I rebel against this Progress.

What have this Progress and this world civilisation done for us?

Machines and marbles.

They've built this great city of theirs - yes.

They've prolonged life - yes.

They've conquered nature, they say, and made a great quiet world.

Is it any jollier than the world used to be in the good old days

when life was short and hot and merry, and the devil took the hindmost?

- All the same, what can we do about it? - Rebel.

- And rebel now, now. Now is the time. - Why now in particular?

Why, because of this Space Gun business.

Because of this project to shoot human beings at the stars.

People don't like it, shooting humans away to hard, frozen darkness. They're murmuring.

They've murmured before, and nothing came of it.

Because they had no leader.

But now, suppose someone cried,

'Halt! Stop this Progress!'

Suppose I shouted to the world, 'Make an end to this Progress!'

I could talk, talk.

Radio is everywhere. This modern world is full of voices.

I'm a master craftsman, I have the right to talk.

Yes, but will they listen to you?

They'll listen, trust them.

If I shout,

'Arise! Awake!

Stop this Progress before it is too late!'

- I like these History Lessons. - Uh-uh.

What a funny place New York was -

all sticking up and full of windows.

- They built houses like that in the old days. - Why?

They had no light inside their cities as we have.

So they had to stick them up into the daylight -

what there was of it.

They had no properly mixed and conditioned air.

Everybody lived half out of doors.

They had windows of brittle glass.

The Age of Windows lasted four centuries.

They never seemed to realise that we could light the interiors of our houses with sunshine of our own,

so there was no need to stick them up ever so high into the air.

They keep on inventing new things now, don't they?

And making life lovelier and lovelier?

Lovelier - yes... And bolder...

I suppose I'm an old man, my dear, but some of it seems like going too far.

This Space Gun of theirs that they keep on shooting.

What is this Space Gun, great-grandfather?

Well, it's a gun they discharge by electricity -

it's a lot of guns inside one another -

and each one discharges the gun next inside. I don't properly understand it.

But the cylinder it shoots out last, goes - swish - right away from the earth.

I wish I could fly round the moon.

Well, that in time. Won't you come back to your history pictures again?

I'm glad I didn't live in the old world.

I know that John Cabal and his airmen tidied it all up.

Did you see John Cabal, great-grand-dad?

Oh, you can see him in your pictures.

But you saw him when he lived, you really saw him?

Yes. I saw the great John Cabal with my own eyes

when I was a little boy.

He was a lean brown old man with hair as white as mine.

He was the great-grandfather of our Oswald Cabal, the President of our Council.

I take it the Space Gun's passed all its preliminary trials

and there's nothing left now but to choose the two who are to go.

That's going to be the trouble. Thousands of young people have been applying -

young men and young women.

I never dreamt the moon was so attractive.

Practically the Gun's perfect now.

There are risks but reasonable risks.

And the position of the moon in the next three or four months

gives us the best conditions for getting there.

It's only the choice of the two now that matters.

- Well? - There are going to be difficulties.

That man Theotocopulos is talking on the radio about it.

He's a fantastic fellow.

Yes, but he is making trouble.

It's not going to be easy to choose these young people.

With all these thousands offering themselves?

We've looked into thousands of cases.

We have rejected everyone of imperfect health.

Or anyone who had friends who objected.

And the fact is, we want you to talk to two people.

There is Raymond Passworthy of General Fabrics.

- You know him? - Yes, I know him. - And his son.

We want you to see the son - Maurice Passworthy.

- Why? - He asks to go.

We think you ought to see him. He is waiting here.

Is Maurice Passworthy there?

- He's on his way. - Good.

- You want to talk with me? - Forgive me, Sir. I came straight to you.

- You're asking a favour? - A very big favour.

I want to be one of the first two human beings to go round the moon.

It means danger. Great hardship anyhow.

You realise there's an even chance of never coming back alive.

A still greater chance of coming back a cripple.

Give me credit for not minding that, Sir.

Yes, a lot of you young people don't mind that.

But why should I give a favour?

Well, I'm the son of a friend of yours.

- People seem to feel you oughtn't to send some one you do not know, Sir - - Go on.

We've talked about this over and over again

- We? - Yes, both of us. It's her idea even more than it's mine.

Her idea? Who is she?

Some one much closer to you than I am, Sir.

- Go on. - It's Catherine - your daughter.

She says you can't possibly send anyone's child but your own.

I might have known.

We are going to put it forward plainly.

Is this thing to go on,

or are we sane and normal human beings to put an end to it

and an end to all such follies forever?

What is this Progress?

What is the good of all this Progress? Onward and onward.

We demand a halt, we demand a rest.

The object of life is happy living.

We will not have human lives sacrificed to experiment.

Progress is not living,

it should only be the preparation for living.

They stage the old Greek tragedy again

and a father offers up his daughter to his evil gods.

And that voice is sounding to the whole world.

I might suppress it. No.

They'll have to hear him, and make what they can of him.

What does this Space Gun portend?

Make no mistake about it!

The slaveries they put upon themselves to-day

they will impose to-morrow upon the whole world.

Is man never to rest, never to be free?

A time will come

when you in your turn will be forced away to take your chance upon strange planets

and in dreary, abominable places beyond the stars.

An end to Progress.

Make an end to this Progress now.

Let this be the last day of the Scientific Age.

Make the Space Gun the symbol of all that drives us

and destroy it! Now!

I wonder what they will make of him?

All very well for you, Cabal.

You are the great-grandson of John Cabal, the air dictator -

the man who changed the whole course of the world.

You've got experiment in your blood. You - and your daughter!

But I'm - I'm more normal.

I don't believe my boy would have thought of it.

- The two of them must have got together. - They will come back together.

This time there is no attempt to land on the moon.

When - when is this - great experiment to be made? How much longer have we got before they go?

- When the Space Gun is ready. - Some time this year, you mean? - Soon.

Then is there no way of saving our children from this madness?

But would it be saving our children?

Oh, here they are.

- Father, we're to go? - Yes, you're to go.

- It's announced? - Two hours ago.

Your speech has struck fire. All the people are excited and angry.

Some are already going out of the city towards the Space Gun.

Nothing is wanted now but leading.

We must go right on with this.

To the Space Gun!

And so we end an age.

Young people. Just beginning life.

And you want to go into that outer horror!

Why don't you send somebody who is sick of life?

They want fit young people, alert and quick. And we are fit young people.

We can observe, and come back and tell.

Cabal! I just want to ask you one plain question.

Why do you let your daughter dream of going on this mad moon journey?

Because I love her. And I want her to live to the best effect.

Dragging out life to the last possible second is not living to the best effect.

The nearer the bone, the sweeter the meat.

The best of life, Passworthy, lies nearest to the edge of death.

I am a broken man. I don't know where honour lies.

You haven't got things right, Passworthy.

Our fathers and our fathers' fathers cleaned up the old order of things

because it killed children, it killed those who were unprepared for death,

because it tormented people in vain,

because it outraged human pride and dignity,

because it was an ugly spectacle of waste.

But that was only a beginning.

There is nothing wrong in suffering, if you suffer for a purpose.

Our revolution didn't abolish danger or death.

It simply made danger and death worth while.

Cabal!

Cabal! The gun's in urgent danger. It's a race against time now to save it.

Theotocopulos is out with a crowd of people already. He is going to the Space Gun now.

They're gonna break it up. They say it's the symbol of your tyranny.

- Have they weapons? - Bars of metal. They can smash delicate apparatus.

They can do endless mischief.

But you have a traffic control. Can't they produce a police?

Very few... We've nothing but the Gas of Peace

and it isn't ready. It will take hours yet.

We must hold this crowd back - at any cost - for a time; until the Gas of Peace is ready.

Hear this?

Look!

Cabal, they're rioting. It's barbarism come back.

- Who are you? - William Jeans, the Astronomical Department - Space Gun.

Well, we've stopped the air ways. They'll have to go on foot.

And they'll take an hour or more to get there. Even those who've already started.

That Gun mustn't be broken up. After all the final experiments have all been made!

- When everything was ready! - When everything was ready.

If they smash up this infernal gun then, honour is satisfied and you needn't go.

- They won't smash the Gun. - Suppose the Gun was fired now?

- Would the cylinder reach the moon? - It would miss and fly into outer space.

It is five now. If the gun were fired before seven...

- And... it could be? - Yes. - Then... - We go now.

No, no, no! I don't know what to say, but - Don't go. Don't go.

But, Father, we must go now, or we may never go.

And then for the rest of our lives we'll feel that we've shirked, and lived in vain...

We must go now.

Quickly! This way!

- If you go up to the platform, we'll guard this below. - Right.

Contract all your muscles when the concussion comes.

In five minutes you'll be able to get loose and move about.

There is the man -

There is the man who would offer up his daughter to the Devil of Science.

What do you want here?

We want to save these young people from your experiments.

We want to put an end to this inhuman foolery.

We mean to destroy that Gun.

We have a right to do what we like with our lives -

- with our sort of lives. We don't grudge you your artistic life.

You have safety, plenty, all you want.

We want to make the world safe for men.

No one prevents you.

How can we do that when your science and inventions are perpetually changing life for us -

when you're everlastingly contriving strange things?

When you make what we think great seem small.

When you make what we think strong seem feeble.

We don't want you in the same world with us.

We don't want this expedition.

We don't want mankind to go out to the moon and to the planets.

We shall hate you more if you succeed than if you fail.

Destroy the Gun!

Before you can even reach the base of the gun, it will be fired.

Beware of the concussion.

Beware of the concussion.

Stand by, Control Room.

Clear all outside observers.

Standing by for fire.

There! There they go! That faint gleam of light.

- I feel that what we've done is monstrous. - What they have done is magnificent.

- Will they come back? - Yes. And go again. And again -

till the landing is made and the moon is conquered.

This is only a beginning.

If they don't come back - my son and your daughter?

- What of that, Cabal? - Then presently others will go.

Oh God! Is there never to be any age of happiness?

Is there never to be any rest?

Rest enough for the individual man.

Too much and too soon, and we call it death.

But for MAN no rest and no ending.

He must go on - conquest beyond conquest.

First this little planet and its winds and ways,

and then all the laws of mind and matter that restrain him.

Then the planets about him,

and at last out across immensity to the stars.

And when he has conquered all the deeps of space

and all the mysteries of time -

still he will be beginning.

But we are such little creatures.

Poor Humanity. So fragile - so weak.

Little - little animals.

Little animals.

And if we're no more than animals - we must snatch each little scrap of happiness

and live and suffer and pass,

mattering no more than all the other animals

do - or have done.

It is this - or that.

All the universe or nothingness...

Which shall it be, Passworthy?

Which shall it be?

Which shall it be?

Which shall it be?

Which shall it be?