Out of the Unknown (1965) s01e11 Episode Script
Thirteen To Centaurus
1 [theme music plays.]
[chanting in foreign language.]
[groaning.]
[howling.]
[child screaming.]
[chanting continues.]
[groaning.]
[groans, shouts inaudibly.]
[tapping.]
[howling.]
[howling.]
[grunting.]
[groaning.]
[grunts, shouts inaudibly.]
[howling continues.]
[howling.]
[child screaming.]
[shouting in sleep.]
No, not me! [screaming continues.]
Leave me alone! Leave me alone! No! No! No! [groaning.]
[grunting.]
[cackling.]
[woman.]
Max.
[cackling.]
Max.
Oh, Max.
Was I shouting? Screaming.
Oh, Iâm sorry, darling.
I wonder what it's like to have a nice, quiet, peaceful night's sleep.
Oh, don't ask me.
Don't worry about it.
Max You must see somebody about these dreams.
There's nothing to see about.
Everybody dreams.
But you don't get enough sleep.
Please, Max.
Talk to somebody at the hospital.
You're not gonna lie and wait brooding about it for the rest of the night, are you? Itâs all right.
Was it the same dream? Yes, more or less.
Itâs something to do with Jimmy, isn't it? Yes, it could be.
Always seems to be a child crying in the dream.
I suppose after all those nights hearing the poor thing crying hour after hour l shouldn't be surprised at having nightmares.
I don't suppose either of us could expect life to be quite the same after-- Don't worry, darling.
Just try and get some sleep.
[doorbell rings.]
Who the devil is that? Somebody from the hospital, perhaps? Surely they'd phone at this time of night.
[doorbell rings again.]
[coughs.]
Oh.
Sorry to disturb you, sir.
- You're a doctor, aren't you? - Ah, yes but-- Well I was just passing by here and I see this bloke collapse beside your car.
Think he's a tramp but he seems to be in a pretty bad way.
Oh, we'd better bring him in here.
Oh, thanks.
Itâs all right.
I can handle him.
[policeman.]
Through here, sir, is it? Ah, yes.
Through there.
Thank you.
- Can you manage? - Oh, yeah.
He's not much more than skin and bone.
Oh, you better put him down there.
[strained.]
There we are, old chap.
You're from the University Hospital, aren't you, sir? Yes, but-- I saw the sticker on your car windscreen.
Yes.
Bit of a mess, isn't he? Starvation is it, sir? Well, he hasn't exactly been living it up but he's eaten something quite recently.
Oh, yeah.
If I could use your phone, sir, I think ought to phone the County Infirmary.
Yes, you'll find it over-- No, wait a minute.
It can't be.
Max, what's happened? Oh, it's just a man taken ill on the streets.
Get a couple of blankets, darling, will you? Yeah.
I think we ought to get on the infirmary, sir.
Constable.
You've never seen this man before? No, sir.
Why? Or perhaps you better get him into my hospital, at least it's nearer.
Well [dialling.]
Hello.
Dr.
Harrow here.
Yes, could you tell me who the duty registrar is tonight? Would you put me through to him right away? Thank you.
[ringing.]
- Yes? - Hello, Gordon.
Max here.
Max, what are you doing at this time of the night-- Now, listen carefully, Gordon.
Iâm perfectly sane and sober but Iâm gonna tell you something that's well, quite unbelievable.
A man just collapsed outside my house.
- Uh-huh.
- Now, look, Gordon this man is suffering from heterochylia.
What? Well, Max, that's ridiculous.
I know it's a snap decision but everything tallies, the skin, the smell, the eyes, the teeth.
What age is he? Well it's difficult to say 50, 60.
50 or 60? Max, you know as well as I do-- Now, look, Gordon I think I know the disease my own son died of.
Now, look, just a minute, Max.
Max.
Heterochylia in an adult, well it's as near as damn it impossible.
Now, Gordon, try and wangle an ambulance round here - right away to pick him up.
- Yes.
All right.
When you get him, do the routine tests on him, Iâll be down right away.
Oh, and let the prof know.
Yes, yes.
All right, Max.
Iâll do the tests.
Goodbye.
All right, thanks.
Doesn't look as though he's washed for months.
Yes.
Pongs a bit, doesn't he? [tramp groans.]
What is that? What did he say? [indistinct speech.]
I couldn't make it out.
Sounds a bit foreign to me.
Perhaps he's gypsy.
What is it? Where do you come from? No, you're not gonna get much out of him, sir.
Why the devil did he come here? What do you mean? I thought you said he'd collapsed outside.
Max, what's wrong with him? Now don't worry, darling.
Go back to bed, please.
Oh, and, Constable, there's no need for you to wait.
There's an ambulance on its way.
Just a minute sir.
He's got something here.
- What's that? - I don't know yet.
He's hanging on to it like grim death.
- Oh, yes, here we are.
- Let me see.
Well it It looks like a bit of bone.
I see.
Yes, it's a phalanx.
What's that, sir? Itâs part of a human finger bone.
Iâm not interested in what you think is going on inside the research station.
Itâs army property, we can't have people going around slapping paint all over the walls.
Iâll have to report this to the university authorities.
[phone ringing.]
Get their names for me, Peters.
Grampian Road Police Station.
Yes.
Who is that speaking? Yes.
Yes, Dr.
Scoreman.
And what time was this? Your front garden? And you didn't see him again last night? Iâll send someone around right away.
Good morning, Dr.
Harrow.
- Very early today, sir.
- Yes.
- You washed his stomach out? - Yes, sir.
Appears he'd had a large helping of fish and chips.
As soon as we got some glucose into him, he seemed to improve.
They're going to send all his notes and reports to my room.
I may teach on him this morning.
And of course, let me know if there's any sign - of returning consciousness.
- Yes, sir.
Perhaps you'd organise a student, would you? Yes, Doctor.
Erm Did you say that Harrow said he collapsed outside his house? Yes, apparently, sir.
Doesn't that strike you as rather odd? One of half a dozen doctors in this country who'd recognise that disease.
Quite a coincidence, you know.
There you are, Max.
How is he, Gordon? Well, he's unconscious but alive.
You know, frankly, when you rang and told me, I thought you'd gone round the bend, but it looks like you may be right.
All the tests confirm it.
Oh.
What does the old man say? ln his guarded way, he agrees.
Well, does he think he'll make it? He shouldn't be alive now by all the rules.
We washed his stomach out, you know.
He must have been scoffing fish and chips, that's what had knocked him out.
The extraordinary thing is that apart from being three-quarters starved, it doesn't look as if the heterochylia has ever given him any really bad trouble.
Hmm.
If we could only find out how he's managed to survive.
Has he talked? Any idea who he is? No, except What? Well, he did come round for a few minutes after we'd washed his stomach out and got some glucose into him.
He muttered a few words, but they seemed to be in some sort of foreign language, I couldn't get any of it.
If I hadn't seen him myself, I wouldn't have thought him possible.
Oh, by the way, I forgot found this on him.
Oh, what's that? It looks like a bit of flint.
- Flint? - Yes.
It was stuffed down inside his boot.
- Itâs covered in blood.
- Yes, I know.
I suppose he must have used it to gut a stolen chicken or something like that.
Anyway, Iâve got more to do than solve the problem of your tramp.
If you ask her nicely, Sister may give you some coffee.
Looks like you had a rough night.
Oh, Gordon, can I see him? Yes, he's in Ward B but I think the Prof's teaching on him at the moment.
Iâll see you later.
All these diseases are caused by a high level of radiation, which has been a problem for some time now.
This is one of the latest to be described.
Essentially, heterochylia is caused by radiation damage to a particular gene.
The metabolic pathways are disturbed and food which would normally be perfectly wholesome becomes highly toxic due to some aberration in the digestive process, some change in the enzymes whereby ingested fat is transferred from the small intestine to the bloodstream.
This man displays all the typical superficial signs.
There's the very thin, very unhealthy skin, the roughened tongue and the jaundiced condition of the eyes.
Now, unless you can isolate and identify the particular dangerous fat, and remember, gentlemen, that an infant can be poisoned by its own mother's milk, the consequences will be cretinism, paralysis and death.
I would have said the inevitable consequences had this case not been brought to my notice.
So you can see that he's of singular interest and importance to us.
And that's why Iâve brought him to your notice.
And that, gentlemen, will be all for today.
Good morning.
Oh, Max, I wanted a word with you.
Sister, you will let Dr.
Harrow know if there's the slightest change in his condition, won't you? - Yes, sir.
- Thank you, Sister.
Well, Max, you're making quite a reputation for yourself, aren't you? - Oh, really sir? - Of course you are.
Chances are thousands to one against any out of touch GPU diagnosing that correctly.
If you hadn't known, the fat from that fish and chips would have killed him if it'd gone to his digestive process.
You know it almost looks as if he was making for your place.
He couldn't possibly have heard about-- Oh, Iâm sorry, Max.
Surely sir, this case doesn't make sense.
I mean, one glass of milk, one piece of bread and butter, any of these things would have killed him before he was two years old.
Right.
Thanks.
Do you think we can keep him going now, sir? Well, I don't see why not.
Have a word with the dietician and, of course, keep a very careful check on the protein.
Oh, yes, Sister, that's all, please.
Not more than one or at most two grams at first.
And keep the intravenous glucose going.
It really is a most extraordinary case.
Well, what's even more extraordinary is how he contracted the disease.
Excuse me, sir.
There's a Sergeant Cloudby waiting to see you.
Iâm far too busy to see him.
I gather it's about the tramp, sir.
Oh, that's your baby now.
You look after him.
Iâve got a lecture at twelve.
Send him in.
[Harrow coughs.]
Good morning, Professor.
Good morning.
Iâm Dr.
Harrow.
Oh.
Oh, good.
I wanted to have a word with you.
Sergeant Cloudby.
Grampian Road Police Station.
Itâs about the tramp our constable found early this morning outside your house.
I believe he was brought here.
Yes, that's right.
He's in the next ward.
Did he by any chance have a knife on him? Well, I don't think.
Well, yes, he might have done.
Why? We had a telephone call from a Dr.
Scoreman.
Oh, that's right.
He lives quite near us.
Yes.
That's right sir.
Well his Alsatian dog which he lets out last thing before going to bed didn't come in as usual last night.
And his wife found it this morning hidden under some bushes with its throat cut.
Did you know about this, sir? No.
No, I didn't.
From what we know of his movements, it seems it might be the same man.
Earlier in the evening, he was seen in a fish and chip shop about five miles away.
Yes, that's right.
We know about the fish and chips, that's what caused his collapse.
He's suffering from a rather rare disease.
Is that so, sir? It occurred to me that perhaps he was looking for a doctor to help him and he didn't dare go into Dr.
Scoreman's after the dog incident.
But there's nothing outside my house to show Iâm a doctor.
Besides he couldn't have seen the windscreen of my car from the roadway.
Yes, I see, sir.
It is odd.
[beeping.]
[intercom ringing.]
Dr.
Harrow, Sister on Ward B wants you.
All right.
Put her through, will you? Dr.
Harrow, I thought you'd like to know that Dr.
Faulkner's patient is regaining consciousness.
All right.
Iâll be along right away.
- This way, Sergeant.
- Fine.
[groaning.]
Screens, Nurse.
[agitated groaning.]
All right, all right.
Iâm not going to hurt you.
How are you feeling? Well, how is he, Gordon? He hasn't spoken yet.
- Oh, this is Sergeant Cloudby.
- Hello, Sergeant.
Seems this fellow may have killed Dr.
Scoreman's dog.
You know, in Bredelbane Avenue.
What? That Alsatian? He's just a skin and bone.
How on earth could he do that? Judging from the mess, he probably had a knife or something.
Knife? Do you mean that bit of flint we found stuck down his boot? - Flint? - Yes.
Itâs covered in blood.
Iâve got it in my room.
No, Gordon.
Iâve got it here.
May I, sir? Yes, I see.
Pretty primitive weapon.
[gurgling, indistinct speech.]
Do you speak English? English? [loud groaning.]
Nobody's going to hurt you.
Do you understand what I'm saying? [indistinct speech.]
Doesn't look as if you're going to get very far, Sergeant.
Couldn't be a foreigner, could he, sir? He could be anything, I suppose.
How does a man be a tramp in this country without speaking the language? [gurgling, hissing.]
I think we better let him rest.
He's still pretty weak.
If we learn anything more about him, - we'll get in touch, Sergeant.
- Thank you very much, sir.
Oh, can I hang onto this? Thank you very much, sir.
Let us know if he starts talking sense, Sister.
- Yes, Doctor.
- This way, Sergeant.
[background chatter.]
Excuse me.
Oh, Iâm sorry, darling.
- Have you been waiting long? - No, not long.
Scotch, please.
Oh, what's this? An accident at the atomic plant.
There was another leakage.
They say nobody's been contaminated this time.
Yes.
I wonder.
Max.
Did you hear about Scoreman's dog? Huh? Oh, yes, the police came to the hospital this morning, apparently it was the tramp.
The tramp? Thank goodness he collapsed before he did any real harm.
Yes.
He's a very sick man.
Oh, thanks.
Iâm sorry.
- Do you want a-- - No, thank you.
You, er You know what he's got? No.
The same thing that killed Jimmy.
Surely that's impossible.
Well the Prof confirms it.
Says he can't believe it either.
Nobody knows where he came from or how he's managed to stay alive until now.
Something even crazier, the police think that he came on to my place to ask for help, but why? Iâve just driven round.
There are half a dozen doctors near us, and it's my place he makes for.
As the Prof says, the one doctor in a thousand who could spot his trouble and save his life.
But how could a man as weak as that manage to kill an Alsatian dog? With a sort of flint knife.
That's all he had.
- Itâs unbelievable.
- Darling, you look exhausted.
You must try and get some rest.
Iâll be all right.
Did you decide to talk to somebody about your dreams? No, Iâve been too busy.
It doesn't matter to me, but I can see what these nightmares are doing to you, and it's about time your saw it yourself.
After all, what use are you going to be to your patients if you don't do something about it? If you stopped nagging me about it, that might help too.
- Hello, Max.
- Oh, hello, sir.
Hey, Max.
Something wrong? Nothing in particular, just this.
Who's that with Leach? Isn't that Fitzprior? Who is he? Her Majesty's Secretary of State for War? None other.
He's an old friend of the Prof The university have just given him an honorary degree.
What on earth is he doing here then? Well that knee of his is giving him trouble evidently.
He fractured his knee cap during the war and it's still cracked.
Obviously, gives him a lot of pain so he's having the patella removed.
- Oh, I wish it was his head.
- Oh, come on, Max.
That's a bit unnecessary.
What's the trouble, Max? Oh, I don't know, partly, it's Diana.
You know she's been very upset since Jimmy died and I haven't been able to do much to help.
And partly, it's that tramp.
Can't seem to get him out of my mind.
Now, look Gordon, don't you think he ought to be in a private room? Iâve tried.
But the only one available is reserved for our old friend the War Minister.
Oh, well, that's charming, isn't it? The murderer can get a room, one of his victims can't.
Oh, come off it, Max.
That tramp isn't a victim of nuclear testing.
Now, look, Gordon, all these congenital metabolic disorders are caused by radiation damage to the developing embryo.
And it's swine like him that put the radiation there.
Flaming nuclear firework shows.
But 50 or 60 years ago there weren't any tests going on.
- Then how did he get it? - I don't know.
But this may be our chance to find out.
Good old logical, four-square Gordon.
You've had a bellyful, haven't you, Max? You know, you should have had a few weeks off after the boy died.
Perhaps even changed your job.
You don't shake it off that easily, Gordon.
[intercom rings.]
Dr.
Harrow, he's beginning to talk.
He just said something to me.
[mumbling.]
[fragmented speech.]
What did you say? [indistinct speech.]
Can you make anything of this, Max? No.
Do you speak English? [groans.]
Itâs all right, we're not gonna hurt you.
What is your name? Let me have try.
Me me Harrow Harrow.
He is Faulkner.
Faulkner.
Harrow, Harrow.
[muffled, gurgled.]
Har-row.
Yes, yes, Harrow.
Him, Faulkner.
[muffled, gurgled.]
For-gher-ner.
Yes, yes, Faulkner.
You? You? Smiffershon.
Smiffer-shon? Smiffershon.
Sounds vaguely Scandinavian.
Try him with a few things.
Ask him what his word for cup is.
Look this, this cup, this cup.
- Cup.
- Yes.
You, this, you.
Now, look, this This chair.
This chair.
- Chair.
- Chair.
Now, you, this.
You.
Whatever language he speaks, they must have words for things like cups or chairs.
Yes, I wonder.
This, what is this? Ki-yun.
This, ki-yun? Ki-yun.
This blanket? Blanket.
Ki-yun.
[speaks in foreign language.]
You know, there's something very odd about this language.
It seems as if Iâve heard it somewhere before.
- Do you know what I mean? - Yes.
Look, I know a girl in the philology department.
Maybe she could help.
- Yes, good idea.
- Iâll get on to her now.
He'd better have some skull and chest X-rays and an EEG, there may be a tumour - affecting the speech centre.
- Yes, fine.
Sister, can you organise the X-rays? Yes, Doctor.
You're a mystery, aren't you? What's the matter? What are you trying-- [giggles.]
What? Finger? My finger? What are you trying to say? Why were you carrying that finger bone? Itâs something to do with me, isn't it? Well, what? Tell me What? [maniacal cackling.]
Dinner will be ready in a moment.
Well, don't worry about me.
But Iâve cooked it.
Well, Iâm not hungry.
I wish you'd told me that before Iâd started cooking.
All right, Iâm sorry but I don't want anything to eat.
We're supposed to go over to the Scoremans' afterwards for coffee.
Are we? Well, they're your friends as well as mine.
Well, then phone them, tell them Iâve got some work to do.
You phone.
Look, Di, Iâve got a lot on my mind so don't keep on about Scoremans.
Why shouldn't I? Just because this blasted tramp has come into your life, everything else goes out by the board.
Coffee with the Scoremans is hardly everything else in life.
And the tramp is, I suppose? No, but he happens to be pretty important if we're gonna find out any more about heterochylia.
I know, I know.
Any more about hetero-blasted-chylia.
Well, I know all I want to know about that particular disease.
Don't you realise that he knew how to stay alive with it? And he's getting better on the fat-free diet that we're giving him.
If we'd known what he knows about heterochylia, Jimmy wouldn't have died.
Doesn't that matter? Anyway, there's more to it than that.
What? Itâs hard to understand, this tramp means something more.
It wasn't just chance that brought him here, carrying that finger bone.
What do you mean? Itâs as if he slipped out of one of my nightmares.
Max, don't be ridiculous.
Oh, I don't mean it literally.
I don't know, maybe I do, but I just know that that tramp means something special to me.
But how can he? You don't know him.
You don't even know where he's come from.
Yes, that's what frightens me.
Where does he come from? Morning, Max.
- This is Dr.
Danville.
- Hmm? The philologist I was telling you about.
- Oh, how do you do? - How do you do? - I didn't expect you here so early.
- Oh.
Is this the mystery man? Yes, that's him.
You're quite sure it isn't just some sort of speech impediment? Well, no, not absolutely sure.
- Can I take that? - Yes.
Careful.
What was this word that you-- What was the word you mentioned for blanket? - What the devil was it? - Ki-yun.
- Ki-yun.
- Ki-yun? Ki-yun? Os ki-yun.
Now your name is Smiffershon.
Os omin Smiffershon.
[speaks in foreign language, Laura repeats.]
Itâs pretty obviously Indo-European.
âOminâ, you see, we assume that that means âl amâ.
I suppose it could be some obscure sort of Scandinavian dialect but I don't think so.
Well, do you think you'll get it eventually? Yes, can you give me an hour or two? Yes, of course.
We'll see you later on.
Omin Laura.
Omin Smiffershon.
[speaks in foreign language.]
[recording of Smiffershon speaking in foreign language.]
[gasps, groans.]
Cigarette.
You don't know what they are, do you? Look.
Well, any luck? The sight of a cigarette appears to frighten the life out of him.
Anything else? Yes, quite a lot.
It makes one of us seem rather crazy.
- What is it? - Just a minute.
[speaks in foreign language.]
[replies in foreign language.]
He may just have understood us.
So it seems.
- Well that's fantastic.
- Not really.
What is fantastic is the language he is speaking.
Well, what is it? It just doesn't make sense.
Iâll have to consult another opinion.
Oh, now, look, this man is ill.
If you know how to make contact with him, it's of the utmost importance.
We have to know the answers to certain things before we can treat him properly.
Whether it makes sense to you or not doesn't matter.
But we've got to know.
All right.
He's speaking English.
Oh, that's ridiculous.
Yes of course, logically it is ridiculous.
But linguistically, unless I just simply don't know my job, he is speaking English.
Could you carry this for me, please? Miss Danville.
Doctor, look, how long-- Wait a minute.
Do you mean that this man is suffering from some kind of mental disturbance which is-- well turned the language upside down? No, I mean he's speaking well.
I can't really call it plain English but he's speaking our language as if it's undergone a series of extreme changes.
Itâs the sort of difference between the English of Langland's day and our own.
That's what makes it so fantastic.
Now wait a minute.
You mean he's talking a derivative of English.
- Is that it what you mean? - In theory.
But it doesn't sound anything like English.
I mean, that word for blanket, âki-yunâ, it has no resemblance to English.
On the contrary.
You see, blanket can quite easily be a synonym for the word skin.
Now by drawing a mutation of the intrusive vowel, skin quite easily becomes ki-yun.
But it's impossible, these changes take place over hundreds of years.
It just couldn't happen in our modern society with radio and television.
Well, what's your explanation? He's your patient, Dr.
Harrow.
Incidentally, do you know if your tramp, Smiffershon Is he sane? Well, how can we tell unless we make some sort of contact with him? Why do you ask? A possible explanation did strike me.
I suppose he could be a philologist who's suffered a nervous breakdown.
What do you mean-- Somebody who is doing this kind of research? Yes.
That's the only explanation that makes sense.
On the other hand, I think Iâd have heard about any philologists disappearing.
There aren't so many of us around.
Well, Iâll ring you tomorrow when I play the tapes to my colleagues.
Well Iâm very grateful for your help.
All Iâve done is spread even more confusion.
Oh, no.
You see, there is an explanation.
What? But it makes even worse sense.
George, would you mind carrying this down - to Miss Danville's car? - Of course, Doctor.
Oh, and there your wife is waiting for you, sir.
Oh.
Iâll be hearing from you tomorrow.
- Bye.
- Bye.
Di, what on earth are you doing here? Oh, nothing, nothing at all.
You were so engrossed in your lady friend.
Oh, for God's sake, Di, she's helping us out on the Smiffershon case-- So fascinating, you completely forgot our lunch date at the Lion.
Oh, no.
Darling, things have been happening so fast here.
Naturally, the last thing you'd think about is having lunch with your wife.
Di, it just slipped my mind.
Iâve been working on this case.
Oh, to hell with the case.
What if we can go out tonight instead? Iâll take you to town.
No, you won't.
Darling, you're being very unreasonable.
[phone rings.]
Keeping me waiting for over an hour, not even a phone call and Iâm the one who's being unreasonable.
- Dr.
Scoreman, for you, sir.
- Tell him Iâm busy, will you? Yes, but Doctor-- Di.
Diana! You damn well listen to me.
For goodness' sake, leave me alone.
Iâm sick of the whole thing.
Why don't you go and take her out to lunch? [screaming.]
[Smiffershon cackling.]
[cackling continues.]
[heavy breathing.]
- How is it, Doctor? - Lie still.
I haven't quite finished yet.
It took the top off to death.
Yes.
Iâm afraid it did.
But it probably won't give you much trouble though.
Itâs a fairly clean cut.
Bruised, of course, but not too badly.
Iâm afraid you've lost the terminal phalanx.
Gordon, where is it? I don't know, we couldn't find it.
Otherwise we'd have a shot at stitching it back on.
I see, so that's it.
What did you say? Where's Diana? She's in the next room.
There's a nurse with her.
She's very upset, Max.
You asked her what the row was about, I suppose? No, of course not.
It was none of my business.
She saw me chatting with your friend, Laura, and came to some very unpleasant conclusions.
Lie still.
You've had a nasty accident, and you're still pretty shocked.
Rest a bit and then Diana can see you home.
All right, Doctor.
- Dr.
Faulkner.
- Yes, come in.
Iâve got your film, Doctor.
- Smiffershon? - Yes.
There's something very odd about them.
Let me see.
- Let me see.
- All right, Max, all right.
- This is no good, it's fogged.
- Iâm afraid they all are.
Mind you, we had a hell of a job getting him to keep still on the table.
Yes, but that doesn't explain fogging as bad as this.
Have you checked your equipment? As soon as I saw the film.
Itâs working perfectly.
Let me see those damned films.
- Max.
- And the others? They're not so bad.
His head wasn't in contact with the plates so long once we quietened him down.
They're bad enough.
Look at those skull bones.
Brain tissues.
And the heart and lungs are almost white.
Yes.
Wasn't given any isotopes we weren't told about? No, of course, he wasn't.
You better go and lie down, Max.
For God's sake, lie down.
Do you know what these pictures mean? Yes, I know, your hopping about isn't going to help matters.
John.
How many Geiger counters have we got? - Two, as far as I know.
- All right.
Get them and meet me in the sister's office on Ward B.
Nurse-- And John, don't tell anybody why.
- We don't want to start a panic.
- Okay, Doc.
Can you get me Professor Leach, please? And it's very urgent.
Professor Leach, Dr.
Faulkner for you.
Well.
Yes, Faulkner? Itâs about Smiffershon, sir.
He'll have to be moved into isolation right away.
Why? Is it infectious? No, sir.
It looks as if he's full of strontium nitrate.
How on earth has that happened? I have no idea, sir but if the X-rays are anything to go by, he must have been camping out in the middle of a reactor.
Well, get him into isolation as quick as possible and check on all his contacts.
- Patients as well as staff.
- Yes, of course.
We'll check every patient in the ward.
Nurse, you can check -- So suddenly a room has become available.
I thought the last empty one was reserved for His Right Honourable Secretary of State for War.
Cut it out, Max.
What's the matter, Gordon? Don't you like to be reminded of the strange priorities we have in this place? No, not at this moment.
Could you go lie down, you have to be checked too.
Iâve got to find out about Smiffershon.
Oh, blast Smiffershon.
There's another 500 people in this hospital and right now Iâm far more worried about them than I'm about your filthy old tramp.
Now get down on that bed and stay there.
[phone rings.]
- Yes.
- Hello.
- Is that Miss Danville? - Yes.
I was wondering if you'd had time to check with anybody else yet? Oh, well, yes, I was going to ring him up later on.
Dr.
Eastman.
He is the head of my department, he has listened to the tapes and he, more or less, confirms my findings.
Well, what's his explanation? He hasn't got one any more than I have.
He thinks it might be a philologist who's had a breakdown, but he hasn't heard of anybody like that.
ln any case, Iâd rather like to find out just how complicated this language is.
Look, do you know of any archaeologist in the university? Yes, a few.
Why? Well, I want a radio carbon dating job done for me.
Now you do realise it isn't just a matter of putting an object in a machine and turning a dial, don't you? Yes, I do know that, but do you know of one? Yes.
Try Dr.
Gerry Anderson.
Iâve met him a few times.
He's very nice.
He seems to be digging in a Scandinavian peat bog and I think he's at home just now.
- Right.
Well, thanks.
- Bye.
Well, that was my alleged girlfriend.
Max I didn't mean to do it.
[sobbing.]
Don't cry, darling.
You can drive me home.
[clicking, tapping.]
[clicking and tapping intensifies.]
[fearful groaning.]
You probably know that C-14 from nuclear fall-outs mucky up radio carbon method, which depends on measuring the rate of decay of natural C-14.
Fall out's got a way of contaminating things, giving you a spuriously recent reading.
Hang on a sec.
Iâll just check the count on this.
I may be able to tell you right away it isn't worth the attempt.
Have you been carrying that bone about with you? Only today, why? Because it's hot! Itâs about impossible giving a sort of dating for it, I don't know where it's been.
It must have been in a nuclear testing zone or something! I don't know how high the count is but Iâd watch myself if I were you.
Of course, I was forgetting you are a doctor, aren't you? Oh, I see.
What have you done with it? Iâve left it there in a lead container.
Unless you really need it, you better let me have it buried good and deep.
Uh, no.
Iâd better have it back.
It might be rather important.
Do you really think he's ill? Hmm.
Yes.
Very, Iâm afraid.
ln any case, he should never have left before we'd run the Geiger counter over him.
Where do you think he's gone? I don't know.
He made me drop him in the town, he said he had to see someone.
That filthy tramp.
What is it, Gordon? Why on earth should he behave like this? I don't know.
Perhaps it's just a reaction from the all the accidents-- You said he's been having a lot of nightmares? Terrible ones.
He shouts and screams in his sleep and I don't seem to be able to help.
Not since Jimmy died.
[door slams.]
All right.
Iâll handle this.
Max.
Where the devil have you been? How's the hand? Max.
Max, I talked to the Prof, he insists that you come back to the hospital.
Max, you must.
You think I've gone a bit round the bend.
Don't you, Gordon? No.
I think you're suffering from shock.
Yes, so I was.
I still am I know all about our friend the tramp now.
What do you know? - Everything! - Max! I even recognise his face.
- Where from? - From my dreams.
Yes, Iâve seen him, Iâve heard him laughing, Iâve heard him crying.
I knew it the very night he arrived here, but my consciousness just refused to accept it.
But when I saw those X-ray films today, then I really knew.
But they were a surprise to all of us.
No, Gordon, not to me.
You see that old tramp hasn't just been dusted with radioactive particles, it's inside him, in his muscles, in his glands.
He's lived through something very terrible A world we can hardly even imagine.
That language he speaks, that word for blanket, ki-yun, skin.
Can you imagine a world where the only word for covering means something like an animal hide? How far back do you have to go to find an age when woven fabrics were unknown? Or how far back into the future? What do you mean the future? Seven, eight, nine generations after the bombs.
Iâm talking about this island when the cities have gone, when fires a hundred miles wide have consumed the fields and the forests, when there's nothing left.
That's when people will stop using words like blankets, shoes, pint of beer, cigarette.
But of course, there'll still be people People saturated with radioactivity like Smiffershon.
They'll produce strange mutations but just as the rabbits survive myxomatosis, so they'll develop a strain, a resistance.
They'll be alive, but only just.
And they'll huddle together over a little fire and they'll heap a thousand curses on the heads of their forebears.
Some of them will develop a strange psychic power and become like medicine-men.
And perhaps they'll find some relics of the past.
Tools, weapons, bones, like a human-finger bone and they'll transport themselves back in time like Smiffershon! You think that's ridiculous, don't you? And so do you.
But Gordon, I know! You're talking scientific nonsense, Max.
Who says so? You? But then you've never thought about the future.
You couldn't have, otherwise there'd be some little doubt in your mind.
You wouldn't go on carrying on with experiments that cause the very diseases that you're trying to cure.
This is where your uncomplicated devotion to duty leads.
To Smiffershon, to some new terrible kind of barbarianism.
And where does yours lead to? A nervous breakdown? [cackles manically.]
The usual diagnosis of every doctor faced with a problem patient, nerves.
Itâs my explanation when a friend starts behaving in a completely irrational way.
And what's your rational explanation for Smiffershon? How do you explain his disease, his language? I don't know.
But we'll find out.
And when you're a bit calmer, you'll help with the work and we'll come up with an explanation that's so simple, we'll find it embarrassing.
[giggling.]
Now why don't we have a drink? Max, you must rest.
Diana, they've got at you too.
Good friend Gordon has told you that Iâm suffering from a nervous stress complaint.
He told me that you are tired and worried and I know that's true.
Drink up, Max.
Well, for a nut, I seem to be talking very good sense.
Not nice, but good.
Diana told me Smiffershon was clutching a finger bone.
Have you still got it? Yes.
That's what he came back for.
That's why he came back to this house.
Gordon, do you know what I think he was trying to do? He was-- He was trying-- He was trying to kill me.
Max! [cackling.]
[howling.]
[Diana.]
Max.
[chanting in foreign language.]
[Diana.]
Max! [hissing, gurgling.]
[baby crying, Diana screaming.]
[Diana.]
Max! - I know it's true.
- No.
For you there is only one truth, that your son died and you've taken the burden of guilt on your shoulders for his death.
Your dreams show that conclusive.
And you have elaborated them into a sort of personal myth Because there is a big gap in your hypothesis and the gap is that you are unable to explain how Smiffershon could make a journey through time except by inventing your rigmarole.
You can't wait.
So you find a nice, tidy explanation.
And when you find it's full of holes, you plug the holes with imaginary physical laws.
Now come on, be honest, isn't that what you've been doing? You make it sound so reasonable.
To me, your case is reasonable.
What about the phalanx, what about the accident with my finger? - Wasn't that just a coincidence? - No.
Subconsciously, you created that accident.
You had to destroy your finger in order that you could claim, justify it with your mind, that the one that Smiffershon had with him was in fact your own.
And the language? Well, Dr.
Danville is working on that.
Personally, I incline to agree with her first theory that Smiffershon's probably a philologist, of some sort, an amateur maybe who has had a breakdown.
Now, don't you agree that's a much more reasonable explanation than your own rather extravagant one? - Well? - I don't know.
What you need is a long holiday and then a change of hospital.
Why? Because, quite frankly, Iâm not prepared to allow you to jeopardise the work here.
What makes you think Iâll do that? Because you're not fit, physically or mentally, to go on with it.
I believe that it would be good for you to work elsewhere.
You obviously feel very bitter about our failure to save your son.
And who's told you my feelings about it? Faulkner? Yes, he reported it as a doctor and as a friend.
Hmm, like some sort of hired help.
Doesn't deserve the title doctor, none of us do.
People like your fine friend, Fitzprior, put their finger on the button and we have to clear up the mess.
But we can still masquerade as saviours of humanity.
You talk about my delusions.
What about yours? We couldn't do much to save old Smiffershon, could we? A few anti-burn dressings, a bit of brown paper over the windows couldn't save him.
And he's coming back to warn us and you won't take heed! Max, you're being rather offensive.
You're not the only one around here with a conscience though you seem to indulge it more than most.
Iâm facing facts.
That's precisely what you're not doing, you're facing fantasies.
[intercom rings.]
Yes? Mr.
Kindersley rang to say that the operation on Mr.
Fitzprior's knee was very satisfactory and if you care to visit him, he should be back in his room in about ten minutes.
All right, thank you.
Now listen to me, Max.
Iâm gonna give you two months leave and at the end of that, I expect you to put in your resignation.
I don't need leave.
You need two months hospitalization and that urgently.
[cackles manically.]
The traditional way out if somebody finds out something uncomfortable.
Say they're mad.
Send them away.
There is a more precise term for your illness.
I am not ill.
Iâll resign.
And then Iâll go to the newspapers.
I can hardly imagine any responsible newspaper paying any attention to you.
Somebody's got to listen to me.
Who for example? Yes, you've got it all nicely buttoned up, haven't you? Radios, papers, television.
And only Max Harrow knows the truth, eh? Nine doctors have been involved in the Smiffershon case but you alone know the answer.
Two philologists have given their explanation of his language, but you who are totally ignorant in that field, you reject it.
And as a typical manifestation of your neurosis, only you care.
The rest of us are insensitive monsters, but you care.
All of us sleep soundly even though we face destruction and misery and the end of the world.
Only Max Harrow has nightmares.
[groans.]
Porter, Dr.
Harrow will be leaving the building, I want you to stop him if you possibly can.
- He is very ill.
- Yes, sir.
[alarm beeping steadily.]
Dr.
Harrow! Dr.
Harrow! Professor Leach! Itâs about Dr.
Harrow! He must be insane! [pants, giggles manically.]
A what, sir? Oh, a knee cap.
And who does it belong to? Oh, I see, sir.
Where exactly has he taken it? Well, that's just the point.
We don't know.
But you've got to find him and find him quickly.
And I warn you, he may be dangerous.
All right, thank you.
Diana is on her way.
She's very upset, I didn't tell her exactly what had happened.
Well, there's nothing we can do now until they find him.
Why did he take that? Did he have any reason or was it just part of the reaction do you think? Oh, no, no, no.
I think there was a reason.
Iâm almost certain that he's been burying it.
You know that he believes that that finger bone that Smiffershon had with him was in fact his own that he lost in the accident with the car door.
And you know that he blames Fitzprior and people like that for the death of his son.
But I think that he's trying to establish some sort of a psychic link, so that the victims of the future will send their nightmares back to the man he believes is responsible.
But he's insane.
[intercom rings.]
Yes? Dr.
Harrow's been seen back in the hospital, sir.
Why didn't you stop him? He came through casualty.
Well find him and quickly.
Yes, sir.
[alarm beeping steadily.]
Max! [indistinct speech.]
[speech continues.]
Dr.
Harrow, you should have protective clothing on if you're going in there.
Dr.
Harrow.
Why me, Smiffershon? Why me? I was no more guilty than the others.
Why me? Why my son? You came here to kill me, didn't you? You've done enough.
You've haunted me for months and now Iâve got to have some peace.
Iâve got to have some peace, understand? Iâve got to have some peace! Max, Max! [laughs manically.]
[pants, groans.]
[speaks in Smiffershon's language.]
- Professor Leach.
- Hmm? I was wondering if you'd heard anything about Max Harrow.
No, there is no change.
He's on a continuous narcosis now.
Have you let his wife know? Yeah, she's moved near to the psychiatric hospital.
He won't know it.
Do you think there's any hope for him? I doubt it very much.
What about Smiffershon? Any progress there? Iâm just going to find out.
Iâm on my way to see Dr.
Danville.
- Oh, is she with him? - Yes, sir.
Well, ask her to come and see me before she leaves the hospital, will you? - Very well, sir.
-Thank you.
[speaking in foreign language.]
Well, Laura, any luck? Shh, just a minute, just a minute.
[continues in foreign language, Laura attempts to repeat.]
Oh, this is impossible.
He's obviously a psychiatric case.
Why, what's he been saying? He says that this disease he's suffering from is a result of radiation after some huge atomic war.
He claims that it's all happened in the future.
And he keeps on talking about his finger.
I couldn't quite understand all that but something about it was his only link with our time, he'd come back here to find the owner.
But what's the matter, Gordon? You're quite sure about all this? Well, as sure as one can be.
Why, can you make any sense out of it? Yes, I think I can.
Oh, God, I think I can.
[evil cackling.]
[chanting in foreign language.]
[groaning.]
[howling.]
[child screaming.]
[chanting continues.]
[groaning.]
[groans, shouts inaudibly.]
[tapping.]
[howling.]
[howling.]
[grunting.]
[groaning.]
[grunts, shouts inaudibly.]
[howling continues.]
[howling.]
[child screaming.]
[shouting in sleep.]
No, not me! [screaming continues.]
Leave me alone! Leave me alone! No! No! No! [groaning.]
[grunting.]
[cackling.]
[woman.]
Max.
[cackling.]
Max.
Oh, Max.
Was I shouting? Screaming.
Oh, Iâm sorry, darling.
I wonder what it's like to have a nice, quiet, peaceful night's sleep.
Oh, don't ask me.
Don't worry about it.
Max You must see somebody about these dreams.
There's nothing to see about.
Everybody dreams.
But you don't get enough sleep.
Please, Max.
Talk to somebody at the hospital.
You're not gonna lie and wait brooding about it for the rest of the night, are you? Itâs all right.
Was it the same dream? Yes, more or less.
Itâs something to do with Jimmy, isn't it? Yes, it could be.
Always seems to be a child crying in the dream.
I suppose after all those nights hearing the poor thing crying hour after hour l shouldn't be surprised at having nightmares.
I don't suppose either of us could expect life to be quite the same after-- Don't worry, darling.
Just try and get some sleep.
[doorbell rings.]
Who the devil is that? Somebody from the hospital, perhaps? Surely they'd phone at this time of night.
[doorbell rings again.]
[coughs.]
Oh.
Sorry to disturb you, sir.
- You're a doctor, aren't you? - Ah, yes but-- Well I was just passing by here and I see this bloke collapse beside your car.
Think he's a tramp but he seems to be in a pretty bad way.
Oh, we'd better bring him in here.
Oh, thanks.
Itâs all right.
I can handle him.
[policeman.]
Through here, sir, is it? Ah, yes.
Through there.
Thank you.
- Can you manage? - Oh, yeah.
He's not much more than skin and bone.
Oh, you better put him down there.
[strained.]
There we are, old chap.
You're from the University Hospital, aren't you, sir? Yes, but-- I saw the sticker on your car windscreen.
Yes.
Bit of a mess, isn't he? Starvation is it, sir? Well, he hasn't exactly been living it up but he's eaten something quite recently.
Oh, yeah.
If I could use your phone, sir, I think ought to phone the County Infirmary.
Yes, you'll find it over-- No, wait a minute.
It can't be.
Max, what's happened? Oh, it's just a man taken ill on the streets.
Get a couple of blankets, darling, will you? Yeah.
I think we ought to get on the infirmary, sir.
Constable.
You've never seen this man before? No, sir.
Why? Or perhaps you better get him into my hospital, at least it's nearer.
Well [dialling.]
Hello.
Dr.
Harrow here.
Yes, could you tell me who the duty registrar is tonight? Would you put me through to him right away? Thank you.
[ringing.]
- Yes? - Hello, Gordon.
Max here.
Max, what are you doing at this time of the night-- Now, listen carefully, Gordon.
Iâm perfectly sane and sober but Iâm gonna tell you something that's well, quite unbelievable.
A man just collapsed outside my house.
- Uh-huh.
- Now, look, Gordon this man is suffering from heterochylia.
What? Well, Max, that's ridiculous.
I know it's a snap decision but everything tallies, the skin, the smell, the eyes, the teeth.
What age is he? Well it's difficult to say 50, 60.
50 or 60? Max, you know as well as I do-- Now, look, Gordon I think I know the disease my own son died of.
Now, look, just a minute, Max.
Max.
Heterochylia in an adult, well it's as near as damn it impossible.
Now, Gordon, try and wangle an ambulance round here - right away to pick him up.
- Yes.
All right.
When you get him, do the routine tests on him, Iâll be down right away.
Oh, and let the prof know.
Yes, yes.
All right, Max.
Iâll do the tests.
Goodbye.
All right, thanks.
Doesn't look as though he's washed for months.
Yes.
Pongs a bit, doesn't he? [tramp groans.]
What is that? What did he say? [indistinct speech.]
I couldn't make it out.
Sounds a bit foreign to me.
Perhaps he's gypsy.
What is it? Where do you come from? No, you're not gonna get much out of him, sir.
Why the devil did he come here? What do you mean? I thought you said he'd collapsed outside.
Max, what's wrong with him? Now don't worry, darling.
Go back to bed, please.
Oh, and, Constable, there's no need for you to wait.
There's an ambulance on its way.
Just a minute sir.
He's got something here.
- What's that? - I don't know yet.
He's hanging on to it like grim death.
- Oh, yes, here we are.
- Let me see.
Well it It looks like a bit of bone.
I see.
Yes, it's a phalanx.
What's that, sir? Itâs part of a human finger bone.
Iâm not interested in what you think is going on inside the research station.
Itâs army property, we can't have people going around slapping paint all over the walls.
Iâll have to report this to the university authorities.
[phone ringing.]
Get their names for me, Peters.
Grampian Road Police Station.
Yes.
Who is that speaking? Yes.
Yes, Dr.
Scoreman.
And what time was this? Your front garden? And you didn't see him again last night? Iâll send someone around right away.
Good morning, Dr.
Harrow.
- Very early today, sir.
- Yes.
- You washed his stomach out? - Yes, sir.
Appears he'd had a large helping of fish and chips.
As soon as we got some glucose into him, he seemed to improve.
They're going to send all his notes and reports to my room.
I may teach on him this morning.
And of course, let me know if there's any sign - of returning consciousness.
- Yes, sir.
Perhaps you'd organise a student, would you? Yes, Doctor.
Erm Did you say that Harrow said he collapsed outside his house? Yes, apparently, sir.
Doesn't that strike you as rather odd? One of half a dozen doctors in this country who'd recognise that disease.
Quite a coincidence, you know.
There you are, Max.
How is he, Gordon? Well, he's unconscious but alive.
You know, frankly, when you rang and told me, I thought you'd gone round the bend, but it looks like you may be right.
All the tests confirm it.
Oh.
What does the old man say? ln his guarded way, he agrees.
Well, does he think he'll make it? He shouldn't be alive now by all the rules.
We washed his stomach out, you know.
He must have been scoffing fish and chips, that's what had knocked him out.
The extraordinary thing is that apart from being three-quarters starved, it doesn't look as if the heterochylia has ever given him any really bad trouble.
Hmm.
If we could only find out how he's managed to survive.
Has he talked? Any idea who he is? No, except What? Well, he did come round for a few minutes after we'd washed his stomach out and got some glucose into him.
He muttered a few words, but they seemed to be in some sort of foreign language, I couldn't get any of it.
If I hadn't seen him myself, I wouldn't have thought him possible.
Oh, by the way, I forgot found this on him.
Oh, what's that? It looks like a bit of flint.
- Flint? - Yes.
It was stuffed down inside his boot.
- Itâs covered in blood.
- Yes, I know.
I suppose he must have used it to gut a stolen chicken or something like that.
Anyway, Iâve got more to do than solve the problem of your tramp.
If you ask her nicely, Sister may give you some coffee.
Looks like you had a rough night.
Oh, Gordon, can I see him? Yes, he's in Ward B but I think the Prof's teaching on him at the moment.
Iâll see you later.
All these diseases are caused by a high level of radiation, which has been a problem for some time now.
This is one of the latest to be described.
Essentially, heterochylia is caused by radiation damage to a particular gene.
The metabolic pathways are disturbed and food which would normally be perfectly wholesome becomes highly toxic due to some aberration in the digestive process, some change in the enzymes whereby ingested fat is transferred from the small intestine to the bloodstream.
This man displays all the typical superficial signs.
There's the very thin, very unhealthy skin, the roughened tongue and the jaundiced condition of the eyes.
Now, unless you can isolate and identify the particular dangerous fat, and remember, gentlemen, that an infant can be poisoned by its own mother's milk, the consequences will be cretinism, paralysis and death.
I would have said the inevitable consequences had this case not been brought to my notice.
So you can see that he's of singular interest and importance to us.
And that's why Iâve brought him to your notice.
And that, gentlemen, will be all for today.
Good morning.
Oh, Max, I wanted a word with you.
Sister, you will let Dr.
Harrow know if there's the slightest change in his condition, won't you? - Yes, sir.
- Thank you, Sister.
Well, Max, you're making quite a reputation for yourself, aren't you? - Oh, really sir? - Of course you are.
Chances are thousands to one against any out of touch GPU diagnosing that correctly.
If you hadn't known, the fat from that fish and chips would have killed him if it'd gone to his digestive process.
You know it almost looks as if he was making for your place.
He couldn't possibly have heard about-- Oh, Iâm sorry, Max.
Surely sir, this case doesn't make sense.
I mean, one glass of milk, one piece of bread and butter, any of these things would have killed him before he was two years old.
Right.
Thanks.
Do you think we can keep him going now, sir? Well, I don't see why not.
Have a word with the dietician and, of course, keep a very careful check on the protein.
Oh, yes, Sister, that's all, please.
Not more than one or at most two grams at first.
And keep the intravenous glucose going.
It really is a most extraordinary case.
Well, what's even more extraordinary is how he contracted the disease.
Excuse me, sir.
There's a Sergeant Cloudby waiting to see you.
Iâm far too busy to see him.
I gather it's about the tramp, sir.
Oh, that's your baby now.
You look after him.
Iâve got a lecture at twelve.
Send him in.
[Harrow coughs.]
Good morning, Professor.
Good morning.
Iâm Dr.
Harrow.
Oh.
Oh, good.
I wanted to have a word with you.
Sergeant Cloudby.
Grampian Road Police Station.
Itâs about the tramp our constable found early this morning outside your house.
I believe he was brought here.
Yes, that's right.
He's in the next ward.
Did he by any chance have a knife on him? Well, I don't think.
Well, yes, he might have done.
Why? We had a telephone call from a Dr.
Scoreman.
Oh, that's right.
He lives quite near us.
Yes.
That's right sir.
Well his Alsatian dog which he lets out last thing before going to bed didn't come in as usual last night.
And his wife found it this morning hidden under some bushes with its throat cut.
Did you know about this, sir? No.
No, I didn't.
From what we know of his movements, it seems it might be the same man.
Earlier in the evening, he was seen in a fish and chip shop about five miles away.
Yes, that's right.
We know about the fish and chips, that's what caused his collapse.
He's suffering from a rather rare disease.
Is that so, sir? It occurred to me that perhaps he was looking for a doctor to help him and he didn't dare go into Dr.
Scoreman's after the dog incident.
But there's nothing outside my house to show Iâm a doctor.
Besides he couldn't have seen the windscreen of my car from the roadway.
Yes, I see, sir.
It is odd.
[beeping.]
[intercom ringing.]
Dr.
Harrow, Sister on Ward B wants you.
All right.
Put her through, will you? Dr.
Harrow, I thought you'd like to know that Dr.
Faulkner's patient is regaining consciousness.
All right.
Iâll be along right away.
- This way, Sergeant.
- Fine.
[groaning.]
Screens, Nurse.
[agitated groaning.]
All right, all right.
Iâm not going to hurt you.
How are you feeling? Well, how is he, Gordon? He hasn't spoken yet.
- Oh, this is Sergeant Cloudby.
- Hello, Sergeant.
Seems this fellow may have killed Dr.
Scoreman's dog.
You know, in Bredelbane Avenue.
What? That Alsatian? He's just a skin and bone.
How on earth could he do that? Judging from the mess, he probably had a knife or something.
Knife? Do you mean that bit of flint we found stuck down his boot? - Flint? - Yes.
Itâs covered in blood.
Iâve got it in my room.
No, Gordon.
Iâve got it here.
May I, sir? Yes, I see.
Pretty primitive weapon.
[gurgling, indistinct speech.]
Do you speak English? English? [loud groaning.]
Nobody's going to hurt you.
Do you understand what I'm saying? [indistinct speech.]
Doesn't look as if you're going to get very far, Sergeant.
Couldn't be a foreigner, could he, sir? He could be anything, I suppose.
How does a man be a tramp in this country without speaking the language? [gurgling, hissing.]
I think we better let him rest.
He's still pretty weak.
If we learn anything more about him, - we'll get in touch, Sergeant.
- Thank you very much, sir.
Oh, can I hang onto this? Thank you very much, sir.
Let us know if he starts talking sense, Sister.
- Yes, Doctor.
- This way, Sergeant.
[background chatter.]
Excuse me.
Oh, Iâm sorry, darling.
- Have you been waiting long? - No, not long.
Scotch, please.
Oh, what's this? An accident at the atomic plant.
There was another leakage.
They say nobody's been contaminated this time.
Yes.
I wonder.
Max.
Did you hear about Scoreman's dog? Huh? Oh, yes, the police came to the hospital this morning, apparently it was the tramp.
The tramp? Thank goodness he collapsed before he did any real harm.
Yes.
He's a very sick man.
Oh, thanks.
Iâm sorry.
- Do you want a-- - No, thank you.
You, er You know what he's got? No.
The same thing that killed Jimmy.
Surely that's impossible.
Well the Prof confirms it.
Says he can't believe it either.
Nobody knows where he came from or how he's managed to stay alive until now.
Something even crazier, the police think that he came on to my place to ask for help, but why? Iâve just driven round.
There are half a dozen doctors near us, and it's my place he makes for.
As the Prof says, the one doctor in a thousand who could spot his trouble and save his life.
But how could a man as weak as that manage to kill an Alsatian dog? With a sort of flint knife.
That's all he had.
- Itâs unbelievable.
- Darling, you look exhausted.
You must try and get some rest.
Iâll be all right.
Did you decide to talk to somebody about your dreams? No, Iâve been too busy.
It doesn't matter to me, but I can see what these nightmares are doing to you, and it's about time your saw it yourself.
After all, what use are you going to be to your patients if you don't do something about it? If you stopped nagging me about it, that might help too.
- Hello, Max.
- Oh, hello, sir.
Hey, Max.
Something wrong? Nothing in particular, just this.
Who's that with Leach? Isn't that Fitzprior? Who is he? Her Majesty's Secretary of State for War? None other.
He's an old friend of the Prof The university have just given him an honorary degree.
What on earth is he doing here then? Well that knee of his is giving him trouble evidently.
He fractured his knee cap during the war and it's still cracked.
Obviously, gives him a lot of pain so he's having the patella removed.
- Oh, I wish it was his head.
- Oh, come on, Max.
That's a bit unnecessary.
What's the trouble, Max? Oh, I don't know, partly, it's Diana.
You know she's been very upset since Jimmy died and I haven't been able to do much to help.
And partly, it's that tramp.
Can't seem to get him out of my mind.
Now, look Gordon, don't you think he ought to be in a private room? Iâve tried.
But the only one available is reserved for our old friend the War Minister.
Oh, well, that's charming, isn't it? The murderer can get a room, one of his victims can't.
Oh, come off it, Max.
That tramp isn't a victim of nuclear testing.
Now, look, Gordon, all these congenital metabolic disorders are caused by radiation damage to the developing embryo.
And it's swine like him that put the radiation there.
Flaming nuclear firework shows.
But 50 or 60 years ago there weren't any tests going on.
- Then how did he get it? - I don't know.
But this may be our chance to find out.
Good old logical, four-square Gordon.
You've had a bellyful, haven't you, Max? You know, you should have had a few weeks off after the boy died.
Perhaps even changed your job.
You don't shake it off that easily, Gordon.
[intercom rings.]
Dr.
Harrow, he's beginning to talk.
He just said something to me.
[mumbling.]
[fragmented speech.]
What did you say? [indistinct speech.]
Can you make anything of this, Max? No.
Do you speak English? [groans.]
Itâs all right, we're not gonna hurt you.
What is your name? Let me have try.
Me me Harrow Harrow.
He is Faulkner.
Faulkner.
Harrow, Harrow.
[muffled, gurgled.]
Har-row.
Yes, yes, Harrow.
Him, Faulkner.
[muffled, gurgled.]
For-gher-ner.
Yes, yes, Faulkner.
You? You? Smiffershon.
Smiffer-shon? Smiffershon.
Sounds vaguely Scandinavian.
Try him with a few things.
Ask him what his word for cup is.
Look this, this cup, this cup.
- Cup.
- Yes.
You, this, you.
Now, look, this This chair.
This chair.
- Chair.
- Chair.
Now, you, this.
You.
Whatever language he speaks, they must have words for things like cups or chairs.
Yes, I wonder.
This, what is this? Ki-yun.
This, ki-yun? Ki-yun.
This blanket? Blanket.
Ki-yun.
[speaks in foreign language.]
You know, there's something very odd about this language.
It seems as if Iâve heard it somewhere before.
- Do you know what I mean? - Yes.
Look, I know a girl in the philology department.
Maybe she could help.
- Yes, good idea.
- Iâll get on to her now.
He'd better have some skull and chest X-rays and an EEG, there may be a tumour - affecting the speech centre.
- Yes, fine.
Sister, can you organise the X-rays? Yes, Doctor.
You're a mystery, aren't you? What's the matter? What are you trying-- [giggles.]
What? Finger? My finger? What are you trying to say? Why were you carrying that finger bone? Itâs something to do with me, isn't it? Well, what? Tell me What? [maniacal cackling.]
Dinner will be ready in a moment.
Well, don't worry about me.
But Iâve cooked it.
Well, Iâm not hungry.
I wish you'd told me that before Iâd started cooking.
All right, Iâm sorry but I don't want anything to eat.
We're supposed to go over to the Scoremans' afterwards for coffee.
Are we? Well, they're your friends as well as mine.
Well, then phone them, tell them Iâve got some work to do.
You phone.
Look, Di, Iâve got a lot on my mind so don't keep on about Scoremans.
Why shouldn't I? Just because this blasted tramp has come into your life, everything else goes out by the board.
Coffee with the Scoremans is hardly everything else in life.
And the tramp is, I suppose? No, but he happens to be pretty important if we're gonna find out any more about heterochylia.
I know, I know.
Any more about hetero-blasted-chylia.
Well, I know all I want to know about that particular disease.
Don't you realise that he knew how to stay alive with it? And he's getting better on the fat-free diet that we're giving him.
If we'd known what he knows about heterochylia, Jimmy wouldn't have died.
Doesn't that matter? Anyway, there's more to it than that.
What? Itâs hard to understand, this tramp means something more.
It wasn't just chance that brought him here, carrying that finger bone.
What do you mean? Itâs as if he slipped out of one of my nightmares.
Max, don't be ridiculous.
Oh, I don't mean it literally.
I don't know, maybe I do, but I just know that that tramp means something special to me.
But how can he? You don't know him.
You don't even know where he's come from.
Yes, that's what frightens me.
Where does he come from? Morning, Max.
- This is Dr.
Danville.
- Hmm? The philologist I was telling you about.
- Oh, how do you do? - How do you do? - I didn't expect you here so early.
- Oh.
Is this the mystery man? Yes, that's him.
You're quite sure it isn't just some sort of speech impediment? Well, no, not absolutely sure.
- Can I take that? - Yes.
Careful.
What was this word that you-- What was the word you mentioned for blanket? - What the devil was it? - Ki-yun.
- Ki-yun.
- Ki-yun? Ki-yun? Os ki-yun.
Now your name is Smiffershon.
Os omin Smiffershon.
[speaks in foreign language, Laura repeats.]
Itâs pretty obviously Indo-European.
âOminâ, you see, we assume that that means âl amâ.
I suppose it could be some obscure sort of Scandinavian dialect but I don't think so.
Well, do you think you'll get it eventually? Yes, can you give me an hour or two? Yes, of course.
We'll see you later on.
Omin Laura.
Omin Smiffershon.
[speaks in foreign language.]
[recording of Smiffershon speaking in foreign language.]
[gasps, groans.]
Cigarette.
You don't know what they are, do you? Look.
Well, any luck? The sight of a cigarette appears to frighten the life out of him.
Anything else? Yes, quite a lot.
It makes one of us seem rather crazy.
- What is it? - Just a minute.
[speaks in foreign language.]
[replies in foreign language.]
He may just have understood us.
So it seems.
- Well that's fantastic.
- Not really.
What is fantastic is the language he is speaking.
Well, what is it? It just doesn't make sense.
Iâll have to consult another opinion.
Oh, now, look, this man is ill.
If you know how to make contact with him, it's of the utmost importance.
We have to know the answers to certain things before we can treat him properly.
Whether it makes sense to you or not doesn't matter.
But we've got to know.
All right.
He's speaking English.
Oh, that's ridiculous.
Yes of course, logically it is ridiculous.
But linguistically, unless I just simply don't know my job, he is speaking English.
Could you carry this for me, please? Miss Danville.
Doctor, look, how long-- Wait a minute.
Do you mean that this man is suffering from some kind of mental disturbance which is-- well turned the language upside down? No, I mean he's speaking well.
I can't really call it plain English but he's speaking our language as if it's undergone a series of extreme changes.
Itâs the sort of difference between the English of Langland's day and our own.
That's what makes it so fantastic.
Now wait a minute.
You mean he's talking a derivative of English.
- Is that it what you mean? - In theory.
But it doesn't sound anything like English.
I mean, that word for blanket, âki-yunâ, it has no resemblance to English.
On the contrary.
You see, blanket can quite easily be a synonym for the word skin.
Now by drawing a mutation of the intrusive vowel, skin quite easily becomes ki-yun.
But it's impossible, these changes take place over hundreds of years.
It just couldn't happen in our modern society with radio and television.
Well, what's your explanation? He's your patient, Dr.
Harrow.
Incidentally, do you know if your tramp, Smiffershon Is he sane? Well, how can we tell unless we make some sort of contact with him? Why do you ask? A possible explanation did strike me.
I suppose he could be a philologist who's suffered a nervous breakdown.
What do you mean-- Somebody who is doing this kind of research? Yes.
That's the only explanation that makes sense.
On the other hand, I think Iâd have heard about any philologists disappearing.
There aren't so many of us around.
Well, Iâll ring you tomorrow when I play the tapes to my colleagues.
Well Iâm very grateful for your help.
All Iâve done is spread even more confusion.
Oh, no.
You see, there is an explanation.
What? But it makes even worse sense.
George, would you mind carrying this down - to Miss Danville's car? - Of course, Doctor.
Oh, and there your wife is waiting for you, sir.
Oh.
Iâll be hearing from you tomorrow.
- Bye.
- Bye.
Di, what on earth are you doing here? Oh, nothing, nothing at all.
You were so engrossed in your lady friend.
Oh, for God's sake, Di, she's helping us out on the Smiffershon case-- So fascinating, you completely forgot our lunch date at the Lion.
Oh, no.
Darling, things have been happening so fast here.
Naturally, the last thing you'd think about is having lunch with your wife.
Di, it just slipped my mind.
Iâve been working on this case.
Oh, to hell with the case.
What if we can go out tonight instead? Iâll take you to town.
No, you won't.
Darling, you're being very unreasonable.
[phone rings.]
Keeping me waiting for over an hour, not even a phone call and Iâm the one who's being unreasonable.
- Dr.
Scoreman, for you, sir.
- Tell him Iâm busy, will you? Yes, but Doctor-- Di.
Diana! You damn well listen to me.
For goodness' sake, leave me alone.
Iâm sick of the whole thing.
Why don't you go and take her out to lunch? [screaming.]
[Smiffershon cackling.]
[cackling continues.]
[heavy breathing.]
- How is it, Doctor? - Lie still.
I haven't quite finished yet.
It took the top off to death.
Yes.
Iâm afraid it did.
But it probably won't give you much trouble though.
Itâs a fairly clean cut.
Bruised, of course, but not too badly.
Iâm afraid you've lost the terminal phalanx.
Gordon, where is it? I don't know, we couldn't find it.
Otherwise we'd have a shot at stitching it back on.
I see, so that's it.
What did you say? Where's Diana? She's in the next room.
There's a nurse with her.
She's very upset, Max.
You asked her what the row was about, I suppose? No, of course not.
It was none of my business.
She saw me chatting with your friend, Laura, and came to some very unpleasant conclusions.
Lie still.
You've had a nasty accident, and you're still pretty shocked.
Rest a bit and then Diana can see you home.
All right, Doctor.
- Dr.
Faulkner.
- Yes, come in.
Iâve got your film, Doctor.
- Smiffershon? - Yes.
There's something very odd about them.
Let me see.
- Let me see.
- All right, Max, all right.
- This is no good, it's fogged.
- Iâm afraid they all are.
Mind you, we had a hell of a job getting him to keep still on the table.
Yes, but that doesn't explain fogging as bad as this.
Have you checked your equipment? As soon as I saw the film.
Itâs working perfectly.
Let me see those damned films.
- Max.
- And the others? They're not so bad.
His head wasn't in contact with the plates so long once we quietened him down.
They're bad enough.
Look at those skull bones.
Brain tissues.
And the heart and lungs are almost white.
Yes.
Wasn't given any isotopes we weren't told about? No, of course, he wasn't.
You better go and lie down, Max.
For God's sake, lie down.
Do you know what these pictures mean? Yes, I know, your hopping about isn't going to help matters.
John.
How many Geiger counters have we got? - Two, as far as I know.
- All right.
Get them and meet me in the sister's office on Ward B.
Nurse-- And John, don't tell anybody why.
- We don't want to start a panic.
- Okay, Doc.
Can you get me Professor Leach, please? And it's very urgent.
Professor Leach, Dr.
Faulkner for you.
Well.
Yes, Faulkner? Itâs about Smiffershon, sir.
He'll have to be moved into isolation right away.
Why? Is it infectious? No, sir.
It looks as if he's full of strontium nitrate.
How on earth has that happened? I have no idea, sir but if the X-rays are anything to go by, he must have been camping out in the middle of a reactor.
Well, get him into isolation as quick as possible and check on all his contacts.
- Patients as well as staff.
- Yes, of course.
We'll check every patient in the ward.
Nurse, you can check -- So suddenly a room has become available.
I thought the last empty one was reserved for His Right Honourable Secretary of State for War.
Cut it out, Max.
What's the matter, Gordon? Don't you like to be reminded of the strange priorities we have in this place? No, not at this moment.
Could you go lie down, you have to be checked too.
Iâve got to find out about Smiffershon.
Oh, blast Smiffershon.
There's another 500 people in this hospital and right now Iâm far more worried about them than I'm about your filthy old tramp.
Now get down on that bed and stay there.
[phone rings.]
- Yes.
- Hello.
- Is that Miss Danville? - Yes.
I was wondering if you'd had time to check with anybody else yet? Oh, well, yes, I was going to ring him up later on.
Dr.
Eastman.
He is the head of my department, he has listened to the tapes and he, more or less, confirms my findings.
Well, what's his explanation? He hasn't got one any more than I have.
He thinks it might be a philologist who's had a breakdown, but he hasn't heard of anybody like that.
ln any case, Iâd rather like to find out just how complicated this language is.
Look, do you know of any archaeologist in the university? Yes, a few.
Why? Well, I want a radio carbon dating job done for me.
Now you do realise it isn't just a matter of putting an object in a machine and turning a dial, don't you? Yes, I do know that, but do you know of one? Yes.
Try Dr.
Gerry Anderson.
Iâve met him a few times.
He's very nice.
He seems to be digging in a Scandinavian peat bog and I think he's at home just now.
- Right.
Well, thanks.
- Bye.
Well, that was my alleged girlfriend.
Max I didn't mean to do it.
[sobbing.]
Don't cry, darling.
You can drive me home.
[clicking, tapping.]
[clicking and tapping intensifies.]
[fearful groaning.]
You probably know that C-14 from nuclear fall-outs mucky up radio carbon method, which depends on measuring the rate of decay of natural C-14.
Fall out's got a way of contaminating things, giving you a spuriously recent reading.
Hang on a sec.
Iâll just check the count on this.
I may be able to tell you right away it isn't worth the attempt.
Have you been carrying that bone about with you? Only today, why? Because it's hot! Itâs about impossible giving a sort of dating for it, I don't know where it's been.
It must have been in a nuclear testing zone or something! I don't know how high the count is but Iâd watch myself if I were you.
Of course, I was forgetting you are a doctor, aren't you? Oh, I see.
What have you done with it? Iâve left it there in a lead container.
Unless you really need it, you better let me have it buried good and deep.
Uh, no.
Iâd better have it back.
It might be rather important.
Do you really think he's ill? Hmm.
Yes.
Very, Iâm afraid.
ln any case, he should never have left before we'd run the Geiger counter over him.
Where do you think he's gone? I don't know.
He made me drop him in the town, he said he had to see someone.
That filthy tramp.
What is it, Gordon? Why on earth should he behave like this? I don't know.
Perhaps it's just a reaction from the all the accidents-- You said he's been having a lot of nightmares? Terrible ones.
He shouts and screams in his sleep and I don't seem to be able to help.
Not since Jimmy died.
[door slams.]
All right.
Iâll handle this.
Max.
Where the devil have you been? How's the hand? Max.
Max, I talked to the Prof, he insists that you come back to the hospital.
Max, you must.
You think I've gone a bit round the bend.
Don't you, Gordon? No.
I think you're suffering from shock.
Yes, so I was.
I still am I know all about our friend the tramp now.
What do you know? - Everything! - Max! I even recognise his face.
- Where from? - From my dreams.
Yes, Iâve seen him, Iâve heard him laughing, Iâve heard him crying.
I knew it the very night he arrived here, but my consciousness just refused to accept it.
But when I saw those X-ray films today, then I really knew.
But they were a surprise to all of us.
No, Gordon, not to me.
You see that old tramp hasn't just been dusted with radioactive particles, it's inside him, in his muscles, in his glands.
He's lived through something very terrible A world we can hardly even imagine.
That language he speaks, that word for blanket, ki-yun, skin.
Can you imagine a world where the only word for covering means something like an animal hide? How far back do you have to go to find an age when woven fabrics were unknown? Or how far back into the future? What do you mean the future? Seven, eight, nine generations after the bombs.
Iâm talking about this island when the cities have gone, when fires a hundred miles wide have consumed the fields and the forests, when there's nothing left.
That's when people will stop using words like blankets, shoes, pint of beer, cigarette.
But of course, there'll still be people People saturated with radioactivity like Smiffershon.
They'll produce strange mutations but just as the rabbits survive myxomatosis, so they'll develop a strain, a resistance.
They'll be alive, but only just.
And they'll huddle together over a little fire and they'll heap a thousand curses on the heads of their forebears.
Some of them will develop a strange psychic power and become like medicine-men.
And perhaps they'll find some relics of the past.
Tools, weapons, bones, like a human-finger bone and they'll transport themselves back in time like Smiffershon! You think that's ridiculous, don't you? And so do you.
But Gordon, I know! You're talking scientific nonsense, Max.
Who says so? You? But then you've never thought about the future.
You couldn't have, otherwise there'd be some little doubt in your mind.
You wouldn't go on carrying on with experiments that cause the very diseases that you're trying to cure.
This is where your uncomplicated devotion to duty leads.
To Smiffershon, to some new terrible kind of barbarianism.
And where does yours lead to? A nervous breakdown? [cackles manically.]
The usual diagnosis of every doctor faced with a problem patient, nerves.
Itâs my explanation when a friend starts behaving in a completely irrational way.
And what's your rational explanation for Smiffershon? How do you explain his disease, his language? I don't know.
But we'll find out.
And when you're a bit calmer, you'll help with the work and we'll come up with an explanation that's so simple, we'll find it embarrassing.
[giggling.]
Now why don't we have a drink? Max, you must rest.
Diana, they've got at you too.
Good friend Gordon has told you that Iâm suffering from a nervous stress complaint.
He told me that you are tired and worried and I know that's true.
Drink up, Max.
Well, for a nut, I seem to be talking very good sense.
Not nice, but good.
Diana told me Smiffershon was clutching a finger bone.
Have you still got it? Yes.
That's what he came back for.
That's why he came back to this house.
Gordon, do you know what I think he was trying to do? He was-- He was trying-- He was trying to kill me.
Max! [cackling.]
[howling.]
[Diana.]
Max.
[chanting in foreign language.]
[Diana.]
Max! [hissing, gurgling.]
[baby crying, Diana screaming.]
[Diana.]
Max! - I know it's true.
- No.
For you there is only one truth, that your son died and you've taken the burden of guilt on your shoulders for his death.
Your dreams show that conclusive.
And you have elaborated them into a sort of personal myth Because there is a big gap in your hypothesis and the gap is that you are unable to explain how Smiffershon could make a journey through time except by inventing your rigmarole.
You can't wait.
So you find a nice, tidy explanation.
And when you find it's full of holes, you plug the holes with imaginary physical laws.
Now come on, be honest, isn't that what you've been doing? You make it sound so reasonable.
To me, your case is reasonable.
What about the phalanx, what about the accident with my finger? - Wasn't that just a coincidence? - No.
Subconsciously, you created that accident.
You had to destroy your finger in order that you could claim, justify it with your mind, that the one that Smiffershon had with him was in fact your own.
And the language? Well, Dr.
Danville is working on that.
Personally, I incline to agree with her first theory that Smiffershon's probably a philologist, of some sort, an amateur maybe who has had a breakdown.
Now, don't you agree that's a much more reasonable explanation than your own rather extravagant one? - Well? - I don't know.
What you need is a long holiday and then a change of hospital.
Why? Because, quite frankly, Iâm not prepared to allow you to jeopardise the work here.
What makes you think Iâll do that? Because you're not fit, physically or mentally, to go on with it.
I believe that it would be good for you to work elsewhere.
You obviously feel very bitter about our failure to save your son.
And who's told you my feelings about it? Faulkner? Yes, he reported it as a doctor and as a friend.
Hmm, like some sort of hired help.
Doesn't deserve the title doctor, none of us do.
People like your fine friend, Fitzprior, put their finger on the button and we have to clear up the mess.
But we can still masquerade as saviours of humanity.
You talk about my delusions.
What about yours? We couldn't do much to save old Smiffershon, could we? A few anti-burn dressings, a bit of brown paper over the windows couldn't save him.
And he's coming back to warn us and you won't take heed! Max, you're being rather offensive.
You're not the only one around here with a conscience though you seem to indulge it more than most.
Iâm facing facts.
That's precisely what you're not doing, you're facing fantasies.
[intercom rings.]
Yes? Mr.
Kindersley rang to say that the operation on Mr.
Fitzprior's knee was very satisfactory and if you care to visit him, he should be back in his room in about ten minutes.
All right, thank you.
Now listen to me, Max.
Iâm gonna give you two months leave and at the end of that, I expect you to put in your resignation.
I don't need leave.
You need two months hospitalization and that urgently.
[cackles manically.]
The traditional way out if somebody finds out something uncomfortable.
Say they're mad.
Send them away.
There is a more precise term for your illness.
I am not ill.
Iâll resign.
And then Iâll go to the newspapers.
I can hardly imagine any responsible newspaper paying any attention to you.
Somebody's got to listen to me.
Who for example? Yes, you've got it all nicely buttoned up, haven't you? Radios, papers, television.
And only Max Harrow knows the truth, eh? Nine doctors have been involved in the Smiffershon case but you alone know the answer.
Two philologists have given their explanation of his language, but you who are totally ignorant in that field, you reject it.
And as a typical manifestation of your neurosis, only you care.
The rest of us are insensitive monsters, but you care.
All of us sleep soundly even though we face destruction and misery and the end of the world.
Only Max Harrow has nightmares.
[groans.]
Porter, Dr.
Harrow will be leaving the building, I want you to stop him if you possibly can.
- He is very ill.
- Yes, sir.
[alarm beeping steadily.]
Dr.
Harrow! Dr.
Harrow! Professor Leach! Itâs about Dr.
Harrow! He must be insane! [pants, giggles manically.]
A what, sir? Oh, a knee cap.
And who does it belong to? Oh, I see, sir.
Where exactly has he taken it? Well, that's just the point.
We don't know.
But you've got to find him and find him quickly.
And I warn you, he may be dangerous.
All right, thank you.
Diana is on her way.
She's very upset, I didn't tell her exactly what had happened.
Well, there's nothing we can do now until they find him.
Why did he take that? Did he have any reason or was it just part of the reaction do you think? Oh, no, no, no.
I think there was a reason.
Iâm almost certain that he's been burying it.
You know that he believes that that finger bone that Smiffershon had with him was in fact his own that he lost in the accident with the car door.
And you know that he blames Fitzprior and people like that for the death of his son.
But I think that he's trying to establish some sort of a psychic link, so that the victims of the future will send their nightmares back to the man he believes is responsible.
But he's insane.
[intercom rings.]
Yes? Dr.
Harrow's been seen back in the hospital, sir.
Why didn't you stop him? He came through casualty.
Well find him and quickly.
Yes, sir.
[alarm beeping steadily.]
Max! [indistinct speech.]
[speech continues.]
Dr.
Harrow, you should have protective clothing on if you're going in there.
Dr.
Harrow.
Why me, Smiffershon? Why me? I was no more guilty than the others.
Why me? Why my son? You came here to kill me, didn't you? You've done enough.
You've haunted me for months and now Iâve got to have some peace.
Iâve got to have some peace, understand? Iâve got to have some peace! Max, Max! [laughs manically.]
[pants, groans.]
[speaks in Smiffershon's language.]
- Professor Leach.
- Hmm? I was wondering if you'd heard anything about Max Harrow.
No, there is no change.
He's on a continuous narcosis now.
Have you let his wife know? Yeah, she's moved near to the psychiatric hospital.
He won't know it.
Do you think there's any hope for him? I doubt it very much.
What about Smiffershon? Any progress there? Iâm just going to find out.
Iâm on my way to see Dr.
Danville.
- Oh, is she with him? - Yes, sir.
Well, ask her to come and see me before she leaves the hospital, will you? - Very well, sir.
-Thank you.
[speaking in foreign language.]
Well, Laura, any luck? Shh, just a minute, just a minute.
[continues in foreign language, Laura attempts to repeat.]
Oh, this is impossible.
He's obviously a psychiatric case.
Why, what's he been saying? He says that this disease he's suffering from is a result of radiation after some huge atomic war.
He claims that it's all happened in the future.
And he keeps on talking about his finger.
I couldn't quite understand all that but something about it was his only link with our time, he'd come back here to find the owner.
But what's the matter, Gordon? You're quite sure about all this? Well, as sure as one can be.
Why, can you make any sense out of it? Yes, I think I can.
Oh, God, I think I can.
[evil cackling.]