Attention, ladies and gentlemen.
We are now on final approach to our destination port of Saint Lowel,
the largest city on Mars.
We hope you had a pleasant flight.
Today's temperature is a cool 11 degrees Celsius.
The oxygen percentage reading is seven percent.
Reports have come in of slight unrest throughout the city...
due to public demonstrations.
We hope you have an enjoyable time during your stay on Mars.
Thank you.
No! Jennifer!
Please remain seated and keep your seat belts fastened...
until we've come to a full stop.
We wish to thank our passengers for their patronage.
We look forward to servicing you in the future. Have a nice day.
The cargo area?
Make sure your units are covering the rooftop and the rear.
All in a day's work, Lieutenant.
And don't try and bill me for that bike.
Hey, watch out.
Freeze! Get your hands up!
I said, "Get your hands up!" Now!
- What's up? - Detective, you'd better stay back.
Handle it.
Get back!
Tell me you're packin' your gun, Sheriff.
How about you?
A bunch of cowboys up the ass, and not one of them's got a gun.
Stop now!
Let me down! Let me down!
- Look! That bastard's getting away! - What the hell?
- No! - Stay out of this, Detective.
This is the Martian Police Department, Detective Sylibus.
Did you have a nice trip?
No!
It's McCanon!
He killed her!
The country singer?
Ha-ha!
Damn it!
Hey, wait! What the hell are you doing? You damn lunatic!
This is insane.
Where did you go? I was so worried about you?
Her name was Kelly McCanon.
She was a famous country singer. In fact, the only country singer in the universe.
I guess this means they're extinct.
- And the suspect? - I dunno.
Tell me, is that crazy getup you're wearing...
a standard issue Martian police uniform?
'Course not.
- So, what's your name? - The name's Armitage.
What a sexy back.
- I love broad shoulders. - Hey!
What was that for? I was just being nice!
Listen. What's going on here?
Is this somebody's idea of a sick joke? Annie Oakley here isn't even human.
It's a damn robot.
What's wrong?
What's going on?
Spaceport police. This is their jurisdiction.
In response to the Kelly McCanon incident,
the Martian Police Department has created T.C.S.,
Technological Criminal SWAT, to investigate.
Lieutenant Randolph of the M.P.D. declined further details.
The million-dollar question is:
Just what do we have here, a woman or a robot?
Sir, results from my preliminary findings...
are, well, very interesting.
I learned that the, victim... shall we call her...
is not a human nor a cyborg.
After examining the body, I concluded she was entirely a robot.
Her body tissue was of man-made organic origin,
and she functioned through artificial intelligence.
While no one is capable of creating a human brain... yet,
her computer brain was very sophisticated.
And, as I mentioned, her physical construction was created organically,
but it was done using a technology much more advanced than the Second series models.
I believe that the victim was a prototype built outside of regulations.
It could also,
mean that there are other illegal models like her...
running around under our noses.
Yes, thank you.
And now Detective Sylibus will give his report about the scene.
I... I am Ross Sylibus from the Chicago Police Department.
The suspects appeared...
I mean, they seemed like they wanted to transport the body...
without anyone noticing.
Probably to finish their work somewhere else in private.
Officer Armitage there had been trailing the suspects...
and then all hell broke loose.
Armitage, can you fill us in?
Well, I trailed the suspects...
and saw they were equipped.
I didn't think they were carrying a dead robot.
So, what the hell does that mean?
That it was McCanon's impostor riding the shuttle?
Shut up, Eddie!
What did her manager have to say?
Well, sir, according to him, he didn't see any difference...
between the woman he sat with and the real country-western singer.
And nobody saw her come out of the arriving terminal.
The only suspicious passenger he saw was Detective Sylibus.
It seems that the trick for us is to find out where the real McCanon is.
You know, maybe she's feeling her wild oats.
Might've found herself some kind of wild lover.
Christ, Eddie, will you zip it?
- Just how was she acting inside the shuttle? - She acted fine.
She was holding a normal conversation.
Nothing seemed unusual about it to me.
Hell, I wouldn't have been able to tell her apart from a human.
Are you telling us that this robot was really McCanon?
You think that prima donna was a machine from the beginning?
No. I'm saying you can't distinguish it from a human being.
Hey, yeah, Armitage.
When you realized the corpse was a robot, you seemed shocked, even upset.
Did you think something was wrong?
Well, did ya?
No, sir.
I hope you like your new place.
It's probably not as nice as you're used to, but there's a housing shortage here.
Besides, the rent is reasonable on this end of town.
Gee, a regular Park Avenue.
Whoa!
Twelfth floor.
I'm sure it's better when you get inside.
It smells stale.
Hey, is that all your luggage?
Well, you know, with all the excitement at the baggage claim today...
just as well.
Probably stuff I wouldn't have needed anyway.
There's enough trash from Earth here already.
Well, you do have a point about that.
Look at this.
This is a tape sent by the suspect...
of yesterday's Saint Lowel spaceport shooting.
Here where we belong
What is this, some kind of memorial program?
Where we belong
The following scenes contain graphic content...
and viewer discretion is advised.
If you have children, please set your monitor to "L."
Hey, that's the guy.
I'll go take care of the baggage, babe.
All right. Hurry back.
Who are you?
What are you doing? Leave me alone.
Somebody help me, please.
No, don't.
How did you know I was a...
My God.
Jessica.
This has been unedited material from video files...
as sent to us by the murder suspect.
Here to comment on the footage is Ms. Julia Blanchen,
an activist in the movement to drive out robots.
It's amazing.
They're everywhere you look. You think they could build something else.
You're here pretty early, Detective.
She's gone already,
the badge-toting terror in hot pants.
Hey, you want some free advice?
Try not to get your partner killed this time. And here's one more thing.
When she puts on her visor... Whoo, watch out.
And before I forget, here.
She's clean, gassed and waitin' downstairs.
And welcome to your new home.
Robots, get out!
Get out right now!
- Give us back our jobs! - Give us back our jobs!
I'm sorry to have to break you in so soon,
so we may as well get started.
But, Lieutenant, is our section supposed to handle this matter?
Just what do you mean by that, Ross?
Well, you see, the victim was definitely a robot,
so I don't see why M.P.D. should get stuck dealing with it.
Shouldn't we let some other government agency take it off our hands?
I wish it was that easy, but it's the robot's origins...
that we're interested in finding out about.
As you may not be aware, people here consider illegal robot technology...
and replication to be a criminal offense.
Yes, sir. I guess so.
Are you going to tell me why you wanted to transfer to Mars?
Well, I'd rather not, sir.
As you like, but let me warn you.
If you have misguided compassion for robots,
you won't make it here.
Robots, get out!
Get out right now!
Do you hear us? We want our jobs.
Wow, what a place.
- Excuse me, miss. - Why not?
I'm very sorry, but I've explained to you...
that I cannot allow you to see him.
You're telling me he doesn't remember the name "Armitage" at all?
- Mr. Asakura said he's never heard of you. - Listen!
Don't mess with me!
You'd better get out of here, or I'll call the security gadget.
Yeah, I guess it's useless talking to a Second like you.
Hey!
- Whoa! - Just cancel that appointment.
Robots, get out! Robots, get out now! Robots, get out!
Robots, get out now!
I can't believe this. Put me down right now!
What the hell were you trying to accomplish back there?
Robots, get out now!
You know, you really should move your car. It might get trashed.
By those idiots.
So, now what's next?
Well, immigration seems like a likely place.
Ross. I already went there and couldn't find our guy on the list.
I doubt we'll find any record of him,
because 37 percent of the population isn't registered here.
Or I guess you didn't know that.
So who the hell were you trying to see at the Conception Company?
That is private.
By the way, I've already done some legwork.
Conception was the company that set the standards for the Seconds.
So, there you go. But, you know, I still pity 'em.
The other manufacturer, Hugite, passed them up, and it killed their aspirations,
but that's the way it always goes.
Say, does this fancy machine have reclining seats?
Partner?
If you're looking for a partner,
then stop flying solo.
Hey, Ross, as your partner, can I make a suggestion?
Yeah.
- Let's eat. I'm starving. - All right.
- Ice cream. - Junk food.
I thought we were gonna get something to eat.
Well, whatever.
This is some kind of town.
Things are just gonna get worse with all these remodeled Seconds.
There's no way humans and robots are ever gonna get along.
Besides, you can't trust robots.
You're no different.
You and that guy are both the same.
What do you mean, that nutcase?
It just seems that both of you have something against robots.
Well, I'm sick of all these cyborgs and humanoids and machines...
that only seem to copy us.
Since I'm allowed to make a choice,
I choose not to like something that pretends to be human.
Now, you're positive that that woman on the shuttle with you...
was Kelly McCanon?
- Well? - Of course I'm sure.
Excuse me?
Please tell me you've found Kelly, won't you,
No stinkin' robot can play a guitar and sing the way Kelly does.
I'm her manager. I know her better than anybody.
She's the most human woman I know.
Armitage!
Your client is history, buddy.
Just learn to live with it.
Hey, wait!
Hey, wait up! Armitage!
I want to go.
Your conduct was hardly professional.
Sorry, but that whiner was nothing but an asshole.
You can sympathize with him, but I don't.
That jerk can't figure out how a robot...
could possibly be as good as his precious human star.
Don't you understand?
All of McCanon's talents, personality and dreams were inside that machine.
My God.
Yeah, what is it?
I didn't realize.
Sylibus here.
It's Chris. I'm receiving a weird voice mail transmission.
Is Armitage with you?
No, I'm afraid I don't see her right now.
It's coming to us in real time, so I'll transmit it to your mailbox.
Log it and show it to Armitage right away.
I told you, an officer named Armitage.
Okay, okay, lady. We're looking for her right now.
Please, you've got to help me. I'm a Third!
What's your name again? Wait. Let me get a pen.
- All right, go ahead. - Manning. It's Jessica Manning.
I'm keeping a list of all the Thirds from Pluto.
I can't go outside because of the protests,
and the man on TV who killed that singer has been sending me mail!
Something's gonna happen unless you help me!
Who are you?
Why are they all females?
TV piracy is a felony, pal.
You could get eight years of hard labor in prison.
- Who the hell are you? - I'm Rene D'Anclaude.
It's my name.
So just who do you think you are, mister?
There are other things to concern yourselves with.
Let me show you.
Robots are disguising themselves as humans.
Am I wrong?
It's my duty to do something about this.
You must be rid of those so-called Thirds.
First contestant.
This is Jessica Manning.
- Shit. - A snobbish, bourgeois artist...
who lives and works right here among you.
She had you all fooled.
What should we do about her?
Hey, are you okay? Where's Miss Manning?
Jessica! Save her, please!
Why?
It's all right. You just wait here.
Robots, get out!
Let me through! Police! Hey!
Give us back our jobs.
Get out right now!
It's them. The list of Thirds.
Yes. And then? No, wait!
Good-bye, Jessica.
Slow down!
You, of all people, should understand my work.
After all, didn't a cyborg kill your partner?
They're a pestilence.
But your leg.
Hey, sailor, what's this?
You've gotta be kidding. A fake leg?
Surely the ironic humor of this hasn't escaped you.
You're almost a stinking cyborg yourself, you freak.
What's that?
It's you.
Until now, you've never witnessed the true power of a Third.
Allow me to demonstrate.
Here, bitch! Burn, you misfit!
You monster.
Yeah, that's right. I'm a monster.
Just another name for a Third in your book.
What are you gonna do, destroy me? Why?
What did we ever do to humans?
If humans don't want me, then why did they create me?
Don't do it! Just cuff him!
You're a police officer first, Armitage,
and you know what your duty is.
Armitage, it doesn't matter that you're a Third.
You're a cop, and you're my partner.
No, don't look at me.
You'd already figured out that I wasn't a human, didn't you?
I feel like some kind of grotesque puppet.
I can walk and talk...
and I can laugh and I can cry.
But I'm only a monstrous doll.
No!
Armitage carries a special A-class license.
- I know. - But she chose to become a cop.
A good one. You understand what I'm getting at?
Yeah.
The reason she disappeared is because of you, Ross.
Lieutenant Randolph, you can interrogate me all you want. I'm used to it.
Ross, that won't be necessary.
If you say you don't know anything, that's good enough for me...
and leave it at that.
I'm no Sherlock Holmes, but I've learned from experience to follow my instinct.
I have a hunch there's some kind of connection...
between Armitage and the killing of the Third types.
This could get real fun.
If an officer is rumored to be a humanoid, the shit could hit the fan,
so let's keep this between you, me and the wall.
Armitage isn't a good cop. She's a great one.
Always hurts like hell when the rain comes.
Start message.
Hey, where are you? Are you okay?
Your partner's concerned.
Lieutenant Randolph's no dummy. He suspects you're a Third.
It appears D'Anclaude is working with someone,
because Thirds are still being murdered.
Armitage, don't let bitterness change you. Come back, please.
This makes number seven. God, I think I'm gonna puke.
Who the hell is doing this?
I can only think of two people with the means and motivation.
I'm talking about Rene D'Anclaude and Armitage.
- What's that? - Yeah, I know.
It's weird to think about, but she talked to me about it once.
She pities the robots used for crime, so she kills them quickly.
But I can't believe she'd actually...
Not on your life. Sure, the village is artsy, but downtown is a pit.
I wouldn't move there for anything.
I've got to get some writing done. I'll talk to you later.
Continue writing mode.
Novel in progress: untitled.
Chapter two, paragraph five.
How could she greet the ones from the deep far away?
She, who has spent a pleasant and enchanting afternoon,
who had never given a thought about the person from the Louis.
The same one who once picked her up now cold and dead.
A phantom.
Her battle with the old gods ended.
As a spiritual truce was struck, she felt her soul unburdened.
She smiled. Already, the feeling of harmony was...
Who's there? Who are you?
Are you Armitage?
Are you the one who contacted me?
You fooled me.
I don't wanna die. I don't wan...
Do you mean that Armitage is a suspect?
Well, you can't just deny the evidence.
The woman's last words said it all.
The whole department is shocked,
but the lieutenant had suspicions about her all along.
He's already issued a warrant for her arrest,
and there's an A.P.B. out on her.
Why that sly old dog.
Access mail. Log file: Armitage.
Open file.
This is Pluto.
It's Pluto.
I'm sending this message by use of Armitage's I.D.
I'm a Third, just like you and all the others.
Hey, Chris.
- Find out where this mail originated from. - You got it.
Wanna see a movie Saturday?
Hey, I was worried about you.
I used to love the playground after school.
I was a pretty clumsy kid, though.
I took a tumble off the seesaw once and bawled all the way home.
Listen, did you know that M.P.D. has been searching for you?
But you're looking for Pluto, right? Let's go.
- Armitage? - What?
I believe in you.
There! That's him. I'm sure of it.
But he's a boy.
How do you do, Pluto? It's nice to meet you.
Please don't call me by my handle again.
You can use my given name: Julian Moore.
I'm sorry.
By the way, shouldn't you be in class?
No. I'm transferring my thoughts to the main memory at the navigation center.
- What for? - What for?
To make a backup of myself, obviously.
- Well, let's go. - Where?
To the memory server at the ad tower, of course.
You wanna learn the purpose of the Thirds?
I can't believe it. You're a Third?
Yes, I'm a Third. The last one made.
What's wrong?
- Why'd the elevator stop - I don't know.
It won't stop.
We're dropping pretty fast. At this rate, we're gonna die for sure.
Ross, hold on tight to him.
- Do you really think this is gonna work? - You got any ideas?
Ross?
I think my right arm and ribs are broken.
Armitage, don't get any closer!
Damn you.
He's fast.
Come on! We gotta run for it!
- Go on. Leave me here. - No!
I'll help you. Let's go!
My God.
Ross.
It looks like the only choice is to fight.
Move out!
If Armitage is killed, then there's gonna be no hope for me.
It's D'Anclaude. I just don't believe it.
Surprise, surprise.
Did you miss me?
You son of a bitch!
I won't let you die alone, cheri.
The other two will join you.
Fucking bastard!
He's not human.
Nice right hook, but now I'm going to crush the three of you and get on with my life.
I have places to go and robots to kill.
What the...
Hi there. Bon voyage, Rene.
You crazy bitch! Give me the keys!
- Please, unlock it. - Bye-bye.
I'm curious. Why aren't other Thirds as strong as you?
Security should be here any minute. I'm sure they'll take care of you.
No, you don't have to run and hide now.
Officers don't leave their injured behind.
You're cold, lady.
I will always be cold.
Armitage.
I'm amazed he survived with all the injuries he sustained.
His entire chest area was damaged, and the right arm was severed.
Over 50 percent of his body will be artificial replacement parts.
Isn't that gonna be a problem for a policeman?
For a recruit, maybe, but not for this cowboy.
I hope you feel better than you look.
I can't understand why my other arm hurts so much.
The doctor threw in some kind of new nervous system for you,
so it's probably just a side effect.
At any rate, there's something I wanna show you.
It's Kelly McCanon. Why haven't they disposed of her body yet?
Hey, she's a real find.
You just don't throw something like her away.
Except for a few functions, Thirds are perfect synthetic organisms.
They can simulate every physical aspect of the human body.
The big mystery that's had everybody running in circles is:
Why have all the Thirds been female? Do you know?
After the victims were autopsied,
we discovered that this wasn't just a case of robot destruction.
It was murder. I'll show ya.
Our country-western singer? She was pregnant.
No stinking robot can play a guitar and sing the way Kelly does.
I'm her manager. I know her better than anybody.
She's the most human woman I know.
I can't believe I'm capable of giving birth.
Quite a revelation, isn't it? That's the whole purpose of the Third types.
You can step beyond the bounds of conventional robots...
just by getting pregnant, Mommy Armitage.
Not funny. It's too weird.
But you, what's your role?
I'm still trying to figure that out.
What's the point in creating a male kid?
The C.P.U. showed my serial number...
as the last Third made.
The final model off the line.
Not quite. We can breed now.
Now I understand why the Thirds were made to seem so human,
not just in appearance but emotionally,
like the murdered singer and that novelist.
They weren't just machines. They had souls.
It takes more than the right plumbing to procreate.
Yes, sir. The perfect receptacle for human babies.
What the hell's so funny,
- Jerk. - Tsk-tsk.
What's the matter? Have I touched a nerve?
Maternal clock ticking?
Maybe you'd like Detective Ross to set your alarm.
Shut up!
I was just kidding.
Julian, do you know why they made us?
I don't,
but I'll bet Asakura does.
Or D'Anclaude. He must have some part in this.
How are you feeling? Have you made a full recovery?
Yeah, I'm fine. It takes time getting used to these new body parts.
- Ironic, isn't it? - What?
Little by little, you're becoming like the robot you hate so much.
Let's get down to business, shall we?
Why is the investigation of the Thirds over? That doesn't make sense.
- Maybe it does. - Bullshit.
But we have to follow orders in this department.
- Tell me, was the decision forced? - I'll tell you what it is.
It's a goddamned order that you're gonna follow.
The Third investigation is over because the murderer was apprehended.
Even after we've discovered that Thirds are robots that can actually conceive.
Why stop here?
- D'Anclaude's under full guard. - Yeah, right.
He's over at Shenora General Government Hospital.
I can't accept the contradictory report that you filed.
But, sir!
Our job is to investigate and arrest technological criminals.
Don't you forget it. That's all I have to say for now.
Ironic, isn't it?
Little by little, you're becoming like the robot you hate so much.
That's where all my memory was backed up and stored. I'm saved for posterity.
- And if we're all murdered, you know... - Will you give it a rest?
Ha! Bingo!
Warning: Only authorized personnel are permitted within the memory bank.
Please vacate this area at once.
We're lost. Which way is magnetic north?
There is no department by that name.
You must vacate within ten seconds or...
Asakura was quite a designer.
He created the ultimate woman who could kick ass and raise children.
He designed you too.
Yeah, but I can't get pregnant.
That's it.
Here goes. I hate that this is the easiest way.
Hey, will you hurry up?
Hey, I'm doing this for you. It hurts like hell, so shut up.
I need to know about myself.
Who am I and why?
I'll look.
I'm searching for Asakura's file.
Armitage?
Help me out.
My virtual monitor.
- Yeah? - Open it from my navigational system.
Good. I've located the still image file.
Hold on. Just another second.
That's my father,
but why is he standing next to D'Anclaude?
I don't believe it.
Julian!
Damn it! I think someone's discovered me.
You're logging off now!
God. Something's in me.
Please help me.
Little Naomi Armitage...
went looking for knowledge and only found trouble.
You can't stop the Third types from being killed, my dear.
Shoot me. I don't mind.
Pull the trigger. I dare you.
So, you're not a human. Are you a Third type?
You won't find my name in the membership of that club for failures.
What are you saying?
You make me wretch. Cheap imitations pretending to be human.
There's no comparison to our superiority.
I couldn't agree with humans more on one thing.
All Thirds should be annihilated.
I'll kill you!
Julian.
No.
That bastard's not the original.
My God.
What's wrong?
I'm going. I'll finally meet the real D'Anclaude.
Get back!
A-Armitage, good-bye.
No, Julian. No!
Hey, R-Ross.
- Ross! - No.
Ross, I need your help.
It's D'Anclaude again. Please. I need you.
Something happened to Julian. We need you. Ross, don't...
So one of my men got a little carried away. Well...
I'm Judicial Vice Minister Jessup,
and I'm visiting as a representative of the Legal Affairs Bureau.
I need an accurate picture of the M.P.D.'s operations.
I'm just a bit confused.
Help me to understand why an inspector...
from Earth's government has come here,
Don't mind me, Lieutenant.
I'm simply an observer for Mr. Jessup.
Think of me merely as a fly on the wall.
Well, since you're observing, I'm sure you've noticed...
that the robots here on Mars don't quite reflect a feminist society.
Very well.
You understand us, Mr., Randolph.
Let's call it a day and have lunch.
I'm sick of the whole damn system.
Armitage,
didn't Julian say he had his memory backup stored somewhere?
- The backup? - That's right.
If we can somehow access his data, we could still bring him back.
Get it?
His body's gone, but his mind's alive.
Funny, I didn't think I would miss him so much.
Maybe his information will help us and avenge his death as well.
Julian said he was gonna meet the real D'Anclaude.
Maybe he was telling us we could do the same.
- Ross? - Shenora, right?
Will you come with me?
- What's up? - The internal troops are active.
- Are we at war? - No.
- They're guarding. - What, the president?
- No, Shenora Hospital. - Shenora?
Jesus H. Christ, will you look at that arsenal?
What the hell are they doing there?
Hold on a minute. I'm picking up something.
What is it? It's just a car.
Holy shit.
They've lost it.
Fire!
Here.
It's him.
Finally, the real D'Anclaude.
Or should I say Dr. Rene D'Anclaude?
You must be...
Asakura's daughter, the failure.
We gotta hurry. Come on.
Let's go while we still can.
What's the matter?
Ross.
- Something's coming. - What is it?
- Not again. - D'Anclaude. There's no way.
Hey, let's rumba.
Over here!
This way! Hurry!
Wait! Don't run off! I wanna play with you!
Come on. Wait.
There's no way that damn gargoyle's a Third type.
My, look who's talking?
Don't tell me you have no clue who your brother was.
You have more in common with that prototype gargoyle than you might realize.
- Did you truly believe you were a Third? - Liar.
You can always ask Asakura, but he's tucked away safely...
in a dome on Dunwich Hill.
Armitage.
- Don't stop. - No!
No. I can always tell when you're gonna do something crazy.
Hi, kids.
Does she want a showdown?
We'll both go down fighting.
That'll make everyone happy, 'cause you know, nobody on Mars wants us here.
Wrong! You're the one who's through.
No!
Human suffering is such a unique privilege, isn't it?
He's pure data! Cease function!
Next in the news: the Martian Police Department is investigating...
the terrorist attack at Shenora General Government Hospital,
which occurred during an anti-robot demonstration.
The police are asking for our viewers' help in locating these two suspects:
Ross Sylibus and Naomi Armitage.
The M.P.D. confirms there is a definite connection.
If you have any information, please notify the police.
Yuck.
Let me pick out our next meeting place, okay? Tables with umbrellas.
If that makes you too sick, I know a vending machine and a clean bench.
I guess maybe this is the worst place.
Worst place? Only if I was in your shoes.
Will you cut the crap? Did you find anything?
Yeah. Your Dunwich Hill exists, but not on any map.
I found a good highway going smack blank into a mountain,
but no Asakura address box inviting any mail from a rogue cop.
No topographicals?
Come on. Like I really got a couple of moons to power this thing.
- Hey, what are you doing? - A loss on duty.
Yeah, the dearly departed.
Hey, Ross!
Can you tell those guys... the Martians... Tell 'em Eddie says, "What's up?"
Sure.
So, what's wrong?
Well, are you gonna tell me?
Are you okay?
No, I'm not. My C.P.U.'s all messed up.
They say the mind's the first thing to go. Humans say.
Come on, Armitage. Machines don't go senile.
They also say life is pretty short.
It's like an expiration date, you know?
- Hey, how come... - What?
What's the reason you're doing all of this for me,
How come you're still with me and driving me all the way out here anyway?
I mean, why change from a good cop to a criminal?
How come...
Stop it! You're asking stupid questions like some little kid.
Why? How come? There's no answer.
That's it, isn't it?
Coordinates.
"Virgin"?
Yeah, maybe if you just landed here.
Hey, it wastes fuel to keep the motor running.
Yo! Anybody here?
We're looking for a guy called Asakura!
Is anyone here?
You got visitors!
What happened?
All right, take it easy. Move away from it nice and slow.
Don't shoot. It's only a robot.
Yeah, a big one.
It's somehow just like me.
I think it's a bioroid type.
Is it some kind of prototype?
May I help you?
- Talk about your family trees. - It's another D'Anclaude.
That same face and voice.
I heard someone calling for Dr. Asakura.
I did.
Appointment? No, I suppose not.
Would you follow me, please?
- Dr. Asakura, visitors. A Mr... - Sylibus.
Papa?
The new man from Conception.
It's been so many years,
and you even brought one of the models along.
Mr. Sylibus.
- But I'm not... - Papa.
But she's only a Third. She's so inferior.
The poor little thing. But you needn't be so kind.
It's outdated. I'm sorry.
Here. Take a look at this.
A Fourth type that Conception can be proud of.
There's no longer any need to copy humans or plants anymore.
They live. They're alives.
No, we should call them "phobians."
What? Yes, a new life, my Marforteans, but you won't.
You'll just be calling them anything you want when you market them.
The stupid company you work for...
is just going to call them "the Fourths," aren't they?
They're alives. A grand conception. Then it all goes wrong.
The doctor's mind was unfortunately altered.
Reduplication of his thoughts is very difficult.
Please, be patient.
- His memory, was it erased? - Who are you?
I am Wilbur D'Anclaude...
and Dr. Asakura's aide.
Well, yeah, he might look to you like...
he's one of those damn "assassinroids."
But I fixed up his crazy head,
just as you can see.
Indeed he did.
The violent tendencies I had are now gone due to the upgrade.
- What's the reason? - Pardon?
Dr. Asakura, his mind. Just what's wrong with it?
Forget it, Ross.
That's enough.
Are you still cold?
Yes, it's affecting my nervous system.
I'm sorry I lost my temper.
I was... just hoping the doctor would be able to help you somehow.
Never count on hope. You'll lose.
When wishes are gone, hope gives nothing.
And then you hope that your father might know,
and hopes are really fragile.
They get all ruined every time you believe...
that somebody else is gonna help your hopes come true.
A hope is a feeling. Maybe you'll be okay.
If I was a Second,
then I wouldn't even be able to think of all this stupid crap.
But I'm programmed to be a human,
and I don't even know what that means.
Hope is a human feeling, isn't it, Ross?
- Come on. Tell me more. - Hey, I know one.
He's a human, and he's less real...
than all of the things you're talking about.
You wanna know what he said? "Don't give up."
Ross.
Are you sure?
Armitage, I think it's the only thing I've been sure of since I got here.
How about you?
Well, at least something is normal here on Mars.
But I'm not normal. I'm a robot.
I'm half robot too,
but I know a true heart when I've met one.
We interrupt this broadcast for the following announcement.
Good evening: We've just received word that,
as of 11:00 p.m. U.T.N. time,
the economic agreement has been signed at last.
Mars and Earth have finally signed the treaty.
Officials from both powers are quoted as saying:
"This is a first step toward one world, one nation."
Follow me. There's something I'd like to show you.
- Where's the doc? - This morning, he's with his alives.
He's concentrating on further hybridization.
He intends to continue and complete...
the initial terra-forming plans.
- But that's impossible. - Yes,
rational thought would agree.
Don't worry.
The unborn sister poses no threat.
Dr. Asakura gave up weapon production.
He left this new model unfinished. But why?
A difference of opinion with his partner Professor D'Anclaude.
I... That's enough. Let's go.
Is there something else?
I brought you here because I felt you had previous knowledge...
of the Third's being created as "assassinroids."
Nice upgrade. Go on.
It's the unfinished work.
Professor D'Anclaude began work on female "assassinroids,"
which would some way complement the multitude of my brothers.
Along with myself and Armitage,
we were the pinnacle of robotic creation.
Although our strength and abilities far surpassed humans,
it was quite simple to assimilate ourselves into their society.
Then Dr. Asakura used us as a base of synthetic organisms...
in developing the Thirds,
programming creativity and life instead of the directive to destroy.
Unfortunately, all the prototypes had an imperfection.
There were many instabilities within the logic boards of the Third C.P.U.
Of course, Dr. Asakura's present state of mind...
prevented him from ever quite perfecting the female models.
I'm nothing. He couldn't finish. I'm useless.
- He doesn't even care! - No, wait.
I don't understand. Why even create a Third type?
I mean, the Seconds were good enough, even on Earth.
Perhaps being from Earth, you do not have the knowledge...
of the difficulties there are with low Martian birthrates.
No. I've heard... What's it mean?
Any colony desiring independence...
requires a populace.
Otherwise, they can't develop a new identity.
And Mars will continue to be weak...
as long as it remains dependent upon the Earth for its immigration.
Well, what about Conception?
There's got to be more behind it than just the money that's involved, right?
Indeed. Manufacturers of Thirds, which can give birth,
gain strength through numbers.
The more people they represent, the stronger their position grows.
Logical. But then the assassinations make no sense.
They do, if you're the government...
and hope to sign a treaty with the Earth Federation.
Nah, they couldn't. Do you think they've really done it?
Mars has no other recourse.
The Earth Federation is now strongly feminist.
A robot who can conceive contradicts...
the basis of the Terran party's position of basic humanity.
For Mars to agree, Mars must eliminate the Thirds.
They are now an obstruction.
Is that what you think, that I'm just old Martian garbage to be thrown out?
You're wrong. I'm gonna stay alive for as long as I can.
Exactly.
Your programming for self-preservation...
is exactly equal to ours for eliminating your kind.
But I am now refined.
Unlike my brothers, I respect your wish for continued life.
- Hey, Eddie. - He's on suspension...
for aiding a fugitive: section ten.
No, sir, not if I forced him into it.
Perhaps he'll be pardoned.
I'll submit it.
This Dunwich Hill dome...
has become a military attack point.
The government has made its own connections...
between you two and the terrorist attack at Shenora.
This is an official notice.
You're a threat to the government.
The M.P.D. officially denounces all of your activities.
- So Eddie friggin' squealed. - He didn't.
How could an officer who I put on suspension say anything at all?
- Thanks a lot. - I'm sorry.
Sorries aren't good enough.
- And just what the hell are we gonna do now? - Survival.
It's basic training.
Lieutenant Randolph and friends...
signing off.
Great.
You're in charge. What now?
We gotta get my father out.
Good morning, and this morning is our day of new hope.
Our planet, often beleaguered with nightmarish social confusion,
has been finally pieced together again with the help from our true home world.
Federation chairwoman Everhart has taken two planets...
and given us one world, one nation.
Today, we are reborn...
as a unified humanity.
They're gonna blow all of us up straight to hell.
My alives are not yet ready to leave.
They're gonna be your tinder logs in a few seconds.
- Papa! - Wilbur,
get the important work into the old storage backup system.
Don't worry about me. I'll be safe. It's you I...
Maybe you are a nut, but I'm your damn daughter, and you know it.
This is a police order. Evacuate.
You're still a little fireball, aren't ya, my Naomi?
Papa!
- Armitage! - She's all right.
You must think I'm a great coward, Mr. Sylibus,
but if the alives and myself are to die,
I must at least save one thing.
Poor child.
Daddy will fix it.
Daddy will fix his little girl.
There. It's finished, Naomi. Now you are real.
Last night's slogan of "one world, one nation"...
has this morning blossomed into a new Martian thought toward "two worlds, one humanity."
Hey, listen.
I think Eddie knows a guy who can hide us as cargo on an Earth shuttle.
I still got friends who can get you a new I.D.
I don't want that.
I'm going back, back to St. Lowel.
I don't wanna see you die.
You won't have to. We'll say good-bye here.
I think that's a great idea, don't you?
It's a pretty place if you just ignore the smell from all the bombs.
Armitage, you know I hate it when you talk like shit that way.
So what?
The whole planet hates your kind...
without any damn reason at all.
- Just like I did. - I know they do.
But if...
There's someone else...
Ross, I love you so very much.
Hey, go wherever you want,
but you're never gonna lose me now.
Thank you for coming, sir.
This is an MFN special news break.
Chairwoman Everhart's car has just turned onto the main thoroughfare...
in downtown St. Lowel.
Her bright smile of success is met with the cheers...
of thousands of admirers lining the streets.
The humanity of Mars is now whole again: One world, one nation.
Two thousand.
- Look what Dad gave me. - What?
It's a little too angelic for my taste,
but now I've got some real power.
We'll need it.
Let's show 'em.
Look at all the space we've got out here.
Room as far as the eye can see.
I grew up in a small house,
which was hard with a lot of brothers and sisters.
It was always a battle to find some small corner to call your own.
When I became a man, I thought I'd live in some wide-open place like Arizona.
But as I grew older, I realized that I belonged in the city,
surrounded by the buildings and the bustle of people.
A place like this is too spacious for my taste.
So long as I've got the right partner,
that's where I'll make my home.
I won't care who my neighbors are, whether they're Martian or robots.
A place we can claim for our own.
Do you suppose there is such a place?
If we can't find it, then, by God,
we'll create a place just for the two of us.
Do you think there's room for three?
You're kidding.
Well, when that happens,
I guess I'll just have to think of something.