Blake's 7 (1978–1981): Season 4, Episode 9 - Sand - full transcript

I know a land beyond the heart of time.

The sun never comes there. No moon ever shines.

And man, a grain of sand, nameless and lost,

blows with the dust.

I apologise, HQ,
but that's what this place makes me think of.

The sun never comes here.

Just sand and mist.

Virn, the green planet.

Never rains here, either.

There's something strange.

Not just the way the ship was affected
when we came down,



not just the way all the machinery plays up,

not just the way we're dying.

You still listening, HQ?

This is Don Keller. Remember me?

On Virn, where we have a plague on our hands.

On my hands.

So when do I get something from you?

Running the tapes again?

Afraid you missed something?

Perhaps I like watching old films.

Five years old and mostly static and interference.

...virus which has killed
almost all of my team here at the base.

No fever. No real symptoms. People just die.

Some slowly, some so fast you wouldn't believe.



Twenty dead and another three sick.
They're not gonna pull through.

We don't know what it is, just that it kills.

Only Gina hasn't been affected yet,
Gina and myself.

We don't know either
why the two of us appear to be immune,

or if we are.

We can't really run tests, can we,

with the computers acting up
the way they have been ever since we got here?

The electromagnetic disturbance
or maybe there's just sand in the panels.

Sand gets into everything.

...fact. This planet has something unique.

At least that's what the machines said
when they were still working.

It's a trace element.
I don't know what it is or what it does,

but the reading showed it was something special.
And it's here.

Maybe it's connected
to that first trace we picked up.

The one that indicated there was life here.
But we never ran it down.

The Federation can use something unique,
can't it?

So, please, come and get us out of this place.

Touching.

It's interesting.

I don't think those tapes ever reached
the highest authority at the time they were sent.

Or the Federation didn't want to
risk chasing into an unidentified viral plague.

This mysterious trace element,
it's something that's got to be looked into.

No more than that.

The way things stand,
the Federation has to cover every possibility.

But Keller, now he strikes me
like a man who's scared enough.

They wrecked their ship on landing
and he was virtually alone.

He'd say anything to save his skin.

I've seen that kind of stuff
from dozens of people under torture.

Of course you just happened to be
passing the door when they said it.

I get results.

And I'll get results on Virn,
if there's any to be got.

At the end of those tapes
Keller is obviously dying.

He wasn't immune after all.

And he said the girl shot herself.
They were the last.

There won't be much left of them after five years.

Which makes you rather an odd choice
for this mission.

You think so?

Commissioner Sleer
in charge of the pacification programme?

There's nothing for you on Virn.

Unless someone thought I'd be lonely.

I'm sure you're accustomed to loneliness,
Investigator Reeve.

You must be alone such a lot.

(Electronic beeping)

Investigator.

- What?
- We're approaching the planet, sir.

That looks sick, too.
Could that virus still be active?

- You got your broad spectrum shots, didn't you?
- Yes, sir.

- And what about you, Madam Brainwasher?
- Do you suppose I'd be on this ship without them?

(Alarm blaring)

Can't you fly this thing, Chasgo?

Suddenly I think we must have hit
some kind of multi-gravitational field.

The instruments are going mad.

Investigator, you and the others
better get strapped in.

It's gonna be a hell of a bumpy ride down.

Bang!

- Well, quite, if Scorpio crashes on Virn.
- Keller's ship did.

And then there's always the virus,
which may not have died out.

Yes, not to mention the untraced life
Keller's computers registered.

A monster, perhaps.

- Hello, Avon. Nice day, isn't it?
- It's getting to be a wasted one.

I just don't want to die. Is that unreasonable?

- Yes.
- Yes.

You do understand the problem, don't you?

Orac has intercepted Federation transmissions.

We know what happened to Keller,
we know what happened on Virn five years ago.

We now know that the Federation
is interested enough

to send an investigator to the planet.

If there is the remotest chance
of there being anything of value on Virn,

do we want it for ourselves

or are we prepared
to let them get their hands on it?

- Put like that, I agree we go.
- And so do I.

Tarrant?

I don't think you're in any doubt
about my reaction.

All right.

- Vila may stay at home and mind the store.
- Oh, no. You're not leaving me here alone.

Orac, what's the situation now?

The last interception was of a routine signal
relayed from the transport.

The ship was approaching Virn.

Let's get going.

Fine landing, Chasgo.

You certainly put the lady out of business.

If there is anyone on this planet,
you'll have to leave them to me now.

Everything's in order here, sir,
though the instruments are still acting up.

We grazed our sides coming in.
I'd better check the engines.

We're supposed to be positioned
half a mile from Keller's base.

Well?

You felt what happened to the ship.
I barely held her.

The base is about five miles to the north.

Care to take a walk?

Can't trust anything else
with Virn's electromagnetic record.

Still, bullet can still make a mess of a man.

I might save one for you, Chasgo,
after that landing.

(Engine whirring)

(Rumbling)

Try your communicator.

Chasgo.

Can you hear me?

I can hear you.

Half the planet seems to have come down on me.

You've brought a sand slide down
on top of the ship. Congratulations.

I checked.

The area seemed stable.

- It shouldn't have happened.
- It did.

What are you going to do about it?

It's mostly sand, right?

I can run the motors again, quarter power.
That might shake us loose.

It had better.

Meanwhile, we'll make on for the base.

We've wasted enough time.

TARRANT: It certainly doesn't look very appealing.

Yeah, it's much too green.

Why don't you repaint it while you're down there?

We shall all be close enough to repaint it.
We need to get as close as we can.

If Keller was right,
the planet's energies may affect the teleport.

The shorter the distance it has to operate over,
the better.

Or we could attempt a landing,

which would probably end
all of our problems, permanently.

We should be at the base by now,
according to this.

Of course we should.

Yeah, well, obviously it's not working.

It's getting dark.
We're not gonna find anything now.

We'll make camp over there.

Come on then. Let's go.

You, make a fire.

Nervous type, aren't you?

There is supposed to be some form of life here,
isn't there?

Well, if there is, it probably won't like fires.
So make one.

No moonlight. What a pity.

- I have nothing to gain by tolerating you, Reeve.
- You sure of that?

I suggest you go back to the fire.
The alternative could be frostbite.

I don't believe that. A woman like you?

There is something you should realise.
There are no women like me.

I am unique.

That makes me rather dangerous.

Good night, Investigator.

Sweet dreams.

While we're out here, I'm setting a watch.

Start watching.

That pig, Reeve. "Yes, pig." "No, pig."

I hate this planet.

(Rocks clattering)

I wish it wouldn't do that.

It could be...

You do know that this is a hell of a risk?

- It usually is anyway, isn't it?
- Dayna?

Oh, I trust you, Avon.

I must be slipping.

SLAVE: Yes, indeed, I think I must be, too, master.

- What?
- Slipping, master.

- Soolin, take over.
- Give me manual control, Slave.

With great relief, madam.

I am somewhat disoriented... Confused.

Sounds drunk to me.

Sounds useless to me, which isn't that unusual.

We can manage without Slave.

Descent to the troposphere underway.

He's quite dead.

There's no sign of an injury.

- It could be the virus.
- Or it might have been heart failure.

Unless you want to perform an autopsy
I suggest we move on.

I haven't used old-fashioned percussion bullets
in a long time.

At least we know they'll work.

- Well, as long as four of them do.
- Four of them?

That's all the Federation sent, isn't it?

Assuming they got down in one piece.

Afraid it won't work, Investigator?

Afraid it will.

You would be able to report, presumably,
an excellent reason for killing me.

One more casualty on Virn.

You did kill the other one, didn't you?

You might have had a motive.
Something he found out.

Reeve, you apparently think
this is a new, exciting experience for me.

It isn't.

- I've confronted several maniacs with guns.
- I'm sure you have.

Madam President.

I'm right, aren't I, Servalan?

We never actually met,

but I was at one of those official receptions
for good and faithful servants

that you occasionally graced with your presence.

(Rocks clattering)

There's something on that ridge!

It's a flesh wound. You were lucky.

If I'd been lucky, it wouldn't have happened.

- Avon.
- What's wrong?

Dayna's just been kissed by a bullet.

It's not serious, but messy. Take her up.

I didn't say I agreed!

Apparently, however, you did.

I never could stand the sight of blood.

The feeling is probably mutual.

Tarrant! Tarrant!

- AVON: Tarrant. Answer, will you?
- What?

Do you want a replacement for Dayna?

No. No, I can handle it.

Whatever it is.

Come on, darling, shake yourself loose.

(Gun firing)

All right, don't be scared. I'm not gonna kill you.

Let me introduce myself. Investigator Reeve.

Perhaps you've heard of me.

And you must be one of Keller's team,
so I'll just disable you to be going on with.

Just so you know we can be friends.
Better stand still, though.

I'll aim for your leg,

but I'm not the world's greatest shot,
so if you move...

(Screaming)

(Servalan snickering)

I hate to tell you this, Tarrant,
but you just killed an enemy of mine.

Everyone's entitled to one really bad mistake.

(Thunder)

(Thunder)

- Avon!
- No, Vila.

We will stay this far down.

The atmospheric conditions below
don't indicate storm weather. What's causing it?

- I think we are causing it.
- What?

There's so much static charge,

not to mention the mysterious chemicals
that Keller picked up on his computers.

Now we have introduced
a brand-new alien substance - this ship.

(Thunder)

We are irritating the atmosphere
and it's scratching.

Noisily.

And Tarrant's communicator
appears to have packed up.

He didn't want anyone else down there.
I wonder why not?

Well, you could always go down and find out.

- Orac, teleport.
- Teleport?

I am not programmed.
Three squared to the principal...

- Oh, no.
- I love you.

- Orac!
- My emotions are deeper than the seas of space.

One times one is only possible
in the ultra dimensional.

- Turn Orac off.
- I love you.

Off!

We will be lovers for a little while
or maybe for a long while, who knows?

- I do.
- What a thought.

- Keller was right again.
- Vila, try and bring Tarrant back up.

VILA: Not operational.

Well, now.

None of us is going to faint with amazement
at that, are we?

- What's the next move?
- The usual one.

We'll wait.

Avon. Avon, what are you waiting for?

What a shame.

Yes, it is rather a pity.
We could all have had a reunion.

Instead, the reunion is limited to two.

What is your particular grudge against me?

Let me see. You sat and watched my brother die.

That doesn't seem to make me like you very much.

Aside from all the countless other reasons
anyone might have for blowing your head off.

What fascinating violence.

I'm also a fascinating shot.

Particularly at a distance of three feet.

Is that how close we are?

Something must be drawing us together.

- We're both looking for the same thing.
- Are we?

Then I suggest we agree a truce.

You mean I put the gun away

and you and I trip hand in hand across the base

until you brain me
with some convenient blunt instrument?

You underestimate your usefulness, Tarrant.

I said a truce.

Or we can stand here
until we die of sedentary collapse.

Because you aren't going to kill me, Tarrant,

however much you think you want to.

No?

At a distance of one inch,

the shot should be even more efficient.

Very neat, Servalan. You've found my weakness.

I prefer to shoot a moving target.

In other words, be very careful.

Sand everywhere. Keller was right about that, too.

Something else... It's warm in here.

Which means the life support systems
must still be working.

Then someone must still be alive here.

- Were you expecting someone to be?
- No.

It's fairly standard equipment.

If there's power for the life supports,
there will be for these.

(Beeping)

COMPUTER: Jam. Jamble. Scramble.
Uncode. Declassify.

Jargon. Love is the only reality.

I don't suppose this kind of machine
would respond to a kick in the ear, would it?

Keller. Colour. Cooler. Killer. Calor. Choler.

The computers here were affected
by atmospheric static. He said that.

It's useless, then.

I love you. I know a land where love...

Keller. Don. Don. Dun. Din. Dan. Den.

Perhaps we will be lovers for a long while.

Who knows? Who know...

(Computer switching off)

We'll just have to hope he kept a diary.

Ah!

Food.

All right, let's see you do it after five years.

(Electronic humming)

Don Keller, I presume?

Well, since you're alive,

how about giving me a good reason
for letting you stay that way?

Don't be such a fool, Tarrant!

Then he is dead.

Yes, of course he is.

If he's dead, how come his body's still
in perfect condition after five years?

Servalan, his body's still flexible. He's still warm.

Is he?

(Rumbling)

There seems to be something out there.

Shall I see if it wants to come in?

(Thumping)

Interesting.

Now we know why it went dark.

This building's been covered by a sand drift
higher than the windows.

(Bell ringing)

I'm hungry. Is that why I feel dizzy?

- Let's play a mind game.
- Lovely.

Let's imagine the three of you
have come under a malign psychic influence.

To use antiquated terminology, a curse.

- Well, why us and not you?
- Before my time.

What are you getting at?

I seem to recall you telling me of an alien
trying to take over the Liberator through Cally.

Avon killed it.

Psi powers, a negative influence left behind.

(Thunder)

- Thunder, right on cue. This is silly.
- Is it?

The indestructible Liberator was destroyed
and Cally died.

Why don't you just shut up!
What the hell do you know about any of that?

Do you believe anything of what you've just said?

Not one word.

None of this makes sense anymore.

Would this be the point at which we break down
and tell each other the stories of our lives?

- To soulful music?
- Preferably.

How did you get away from the Liberator?

- It was difficult.
- It was impossible.

- Manifestly not.
- So how?

The teleport. A malfunction.

A power surge.

Suddenly I was back on a Federation world.

- What a lucky little commissioner you are.
- Aren't I though?

What happened to the presidency?

It was stolen in my absence.
I shall take it back eventually.

- If the new boys don't spot you first.
- I'm dead.

And anyone who was ever directly involved
with me has been purged.

Well, it's somewhat academic
at the moment anyway

while we're prisoners here.

- Prisoners?
- What else?

If anyone can find a way out of here, you will.

- Will I?
- Naturally.

You are both resourceful

and decorative.

Thank you. I might say the same about you.

But then I'd also say you're possibly

the most unscrupulously venomous woman
in the galaxy.

Being shut in here with you

is rather like being locked in a cage
with a panther,

a black cat with large golden eyes

and long silver talons.

Oh, Tarrant.

I'm just the girl next door.

If you were the girl next door, I'd move.

- Where would you move to, Tarrant?
- Next door.

What on earth are you doing?

It's called a probability square.
You've never heard of it?

No.

Each square represents a piece of information,

a fact, a reason for that fact, or a conclusion
that might be drawn from that fact.

You keep shifting the squares

until you achieve a pattern that makes sense.

The square represents Virn.

Oh! Playing Orac.

- And getting some very interesting results.
- Avon the machine.

Oh, go away, Vila.

- I thought I liked you.
- You do like her. Now go and sit down.

Funny, aren't I?

If I died it'd be a real joke.

Who'd care?

Who cared about Cally?

You know, I have a theory about all this.

Keller's base was wiped out by a mysterious virus
that left the corpses supple and undecayed.

I say corpses. If we were able to search the place
we'd find the others. I'm sure of that.

What else have we got?

A planet that registers a life reading,
only nobody can figure out what the life form is.

A planet with energies in the air
that turn every piece of advanced machinery crazy,

from a ship to a computer.

And yet, somehow, Keller's machines
were able to put up this base,

and the base and its life support systems
have remained intact.

This planet has one other thing,
though, doesn't it?

The thing we're looking for.

Some unique, unspecified element
that could be incredibly useful

if we knew what it was.

I know what it is.

- You don't happen to be boring me.
- Good, then I'll go on.

No, answer a question first.

Before I killed him,
something peculiar happened to Reeve.

What happened to the other two in your party?

One died here. The pilot's still on the ship.
There was a sand slide.

If he's still inside the ship
then he's probably safe.

Oh, you're very clever, Servalan,
why can't you work it out?

Sand slides. Sand higher than the windows.

- Are you serious?
- If you think about it, it's the only explanation.

- The sand?
- You've seen the way it moves.

- Blown in the wind.
- There is no wind.

Nonsense, it's been blowing...

A sound like the wind, that's all.

You're right.

The air never stirred. There was no wind.

The trace of life on Virn was the sand.

Some emanation from it affects the atmosphere,
even the magnetic fields of the planet,

and causes the rest of the trouble.

Ships crash, instruments fail,
nobody can protect himself.

And when the sand comes into contact
with a human body,

it sucks out the cellular energy,
sometimes fast, sometimes slowly.

I imagine that depends
on how much sand is in the vicinity.

But that's what Keller's plague was.
Not a virus, a vampire.

It killed all of them except the girl.

And then the third element of Virn's ecology
took over.

They were preserved.

It appears the sand
can nourish itself on the dead, too.

So it makes sure the dead stay edible.

And there's the unique element
we came here to find.

A preservative that acts indefinitely
without dehydration or freezing.

It could be incredibly useful.

It's also completely un-get-at-able
under Virn's built-in conditions.

A vampire?

It's an imaginative theory, Tarrant, but it's flawed.
We're still alive.

I know... and that's the nastiest part of all.

Well?

Suppose the sand can reason
in some rudimentary but quite logical way.

A food source here can last for years,

but it seems reasonable to think
that it would like more food available, fresh food.

- Don Keller and the girl.
- The last survivors here, apparently immune.

Then the girl killed herself.
She must have guessed.

Once the girl died, Keller immediately got sick.
Her death made him expendable.

It's breeding stock, Servalan.

It was keeping them alive
to breed a race of food animals for itself, a herd.

And that's our function, yours and mine.

So we get a cosy pen and good food.

Now I suppose I should be flattered.

The vampire tested me and thinks
I'm superior stock to Reeve and the others.

It reckoned it could afford to kill them
if it saved me.

And you, of course.

Yes, any number of women would be safe. A herd.

The label says,
"Earth spring water. Bottled in glass."

You'd better take it.

I don't think you'll ever see Earth again.

Don Keller, he was my lover.

I was 18.

- He's the reason you're here.
- He left me.

I grew up.

Power became my lover.

Power is like a drug.

It is beautiful.

Shining.

I could destroy a planet by pressing a button.

- I loved him.
- This isn't going to help either of us.

I don't care about either of us.

Hey.

It doesn't rain here, remember?

Avon.

There's sand all around him.
It wasn't there before.

Sand?

- Vila, get up!
- Get lost.

Oh.

Thanks.

I think I'm dying.

Avon, look.

Of course. Water!

Since you're awake, you'd see better from here.

You cry very beautifully, Servalan.

And one of your tears
did this to the sand on the floor.

At first I thought
it was just your destructive nature.

Try to remember I have a gun.

Actually, no.

His pulse is very weak.

Well, that should go very nicely
with the rest of him.

Well, there doesn't seem to be any more sand.

There wasn't much but it was everywhere.

All right, Avon, you've told us your theory.

It wasn't a plague on Virn,
it was the sand feeding off human energy.

- Does that mean we reckon Tarrant is dead?
- Not necessarily.

According to Orac's earlier information,
there's probably a woman down there.

It's just possible that Tarrant
was stronger and fitter

than the three men in the Federation patrol,

in which case he may have been kept alive
as Keller was kept alive

- and for the same reason.
- New food supplies.

Yes, but what about us?

Presumably, the sand up here
has compared Vila's wits and stamina with mine,

and concluded that I am the dominant male.

On the herd principle, therefore,

it decided that Vila was superfluous
and it could kill him.

You two, of course,
would have been allowed to live.

SOOLIN: Don't say it, Avon.

I wasn't going to say anything.

(Thunder)

How much more of this can the ship take?

Look, there must be some way
to get Tarrant off that planet.

Not unless we can do something
about the sand on Virn.

- One glass of water is not going to be enough.
- A rainstorm might be.

But it never rains on Virn.

Maybe we can change that.

It's not perfect, but now that we have cleared
the sand away from here,

these instruments make some kind of sense.

I believe that we can nurse this ship
through a controlled nosedive.

What?

Where we are now,
we are causing massive atmospheric disturbance.

Let us get closer. Let us make it worse.

Eventually, there may be enough of a build-up
to create some kind of rain.

Or to knock us out of the sky!

This is not just a rescue mission
for poor, gallant Tarrant!

While the sand remains active

the planet will not let go of us.

The instruments are unreliable.
We have Virn hanging on our heels.

How do you think we are going to get away?

I take it that means "yes".

Well, how could we refuse, Avon?

You are the dominant male, aren't you?

Dayna! Emergency lighting.

You can't kill me.

If you do, your value to the sand is over.
You'd be dead in half an hour.

You forget. My pilot is still alive on the ship.

One man, one woman.

I can kill you.

It's raining.

The rain will destroy the sand outside.

How soon before the sand in here
realises we can escape and kills us?

Water. We'll break the windows.

Stand back.

- What was that?
- Just some glass breaking.

- What happened?
- You wouldn't be any happier if I told you.

Oh.

- What happened to me?
- Not a lot.

- There wasn't enough of it to kill you.
- Kill me?

- It didn't.
- I'm not so sure.

- Slave.
- Yes, master.

Nice to have you back.

Put the automatics online. Check Orac.

How are you feeling now, Orac?

"Feeling? is not a term which can
under any circumstances be applied to me.

Would you care to comment on the teleport?

The teleport is fully functional.

You gambled, Avon, but you won.

Do I get a prize?

This is working now.

It should take me about an hour to reach the ship.

You don't have to see me home.

What makes you think I'll let you go at all?

I mean so much to you.

- Tarrant! Tarrant!
- Yes, Avon?

We're bringing you up. Now.

All right. Oh, by the way,

I've found out what the magic chemical is,
but I can't bring it back with me.

Tell me when you get here.

Thank you.

- Servalan...
- Goodbye, Tarrant.

Homeward bound.

You know, we might just as well
not have bothered to come.

The whole thing's been ridiculous.

One consolation.

Though we can't get the preservative,
neither can the Federation.

You never said what the woman was like, Tarrant.

- Didn't I?
- Pretty?

Pretty familiar. Servalan.

- Servalan?
- Yes. She explained her survival.

And did she excuse it, too?

Presumably she was after the same thing
as the Federation,

but for private purposes.

Don Keller was supposed to have been her lover.

- She told you that?
- Yes.

- You believed her?
- Not necessarily.

I think it was a gambit to gain my sympathy
in a nervous situation.

And she got it, too, didn't she?

Your sympathy, I mean.

Yes, Avon.

I've said all I'm going to.

Orac has theorised that the planet
makes its own sand.

It's probably cooking up a new batch right now.

Servalan may not get off Virn alive,

which would make you the last man in her life.

That's ironic, isn't it?

The others are dead.

We haven't time to discuss it now.
We're in danger.

Don't ask what. Just take this ship up.

- But the instruments won't even respond...
- They will. Do as I say.

All right, I'll try.

- Was there any sand in the ship?
- Yes.

I didn't like the look of it.
After the rain had cleared us I threw it outside.

Then I felt... I must've fallen asleep.

- This is almost normal. What the hell has been...
- Stop talking and take this ship up.

I have a negative report to prepare.

Don Keller.

You waited five years to show me you were dead.

And Del Tarrant,

I had the gun...

but I didn't kill you, Tarrant.

Yet.