Star Trek (1966–1969): Season 2, Episode 26 - Assignment: Earth - full transcript

While back in time observing Earth in 1968, the Enterprise crew encounters the mysterious Gary Seven who has his own agenda on the planet.

Captain's log.

Using the light-speed
breakaway factor,

the Enterprise has moved back
through time to the 20th century.

We are now in extended orbit
around Earth,

using our ship's deflector shields
to remain unobserved.

Our mission: Historical research.

We are monitoring
Earth communications

to find out how our planet survived
desperate problems

in the year 1968.

Alert status.

Force shields on maximum.

Lesley, begin sensor scan.

Transporter Room to captain.

Kirk here. What's happening?

It appears
we have accidentally intercepted

someone's transporter beam,

- It is incredibly powerful.
- That's impossible.

The 20th century had no such...

Captain, something is beaming
aboard this vessel.

I'll be right there.

This beam is originating
at least 1000 light years away.

But no transporter beam can reach
that far, not even in our century.

Something's shaking us apart.

It's locked, sir.
It's locked our circuits wide open.

You're right.

Something is beaming aboard.

Space, the final frontier.

These are the voyages
of the starship Enterprise.

Its five-year mission:
To explore strange, new worlds,

to seek out new life
and new civilizations,

to boldly go where no man
has gone before.

Why have you intercepted me?


- Security.
- Transporter Room. On the double.

On our way, sir.

Please identify yourselves.

This is the
United Spaceship Enterprise.

I'm Captain Kirk, commanding.

Yes, I heard him, Isis.

We're onboard a space vessel.
From what planet?

- Earth.
- That's impossible.

In this time period there weren't...

Humans with a Vulcan. You're...

You're from the future, captain.

You're going to have to
beam me down to Earth immediately.

Phasers on stun.

Careful, Isis.

All right.

Captain Kirk, my name is Gary Seven.

I am a human being
from the 20th century.

- I was on my way...
- Humans of the 20th century

do not go beaming around the galaxy,
Mr. Seven.

I have been living on another planet,
far more advanced.

I was beaming to Earth
when you intercepted me.

- The location of that planet?
- They wish their existence kept secret.

Even in your time
it will remain unknown.

- It's impossible to hide a whole planet.
- Impossible for you, not for them.

Captain Kirk, I am of this time period,
you are not.

You interfere with me,
with what I have to do down there,

and you'll change history.

You'll destroy the Earth,
and probably yourselves too.

If what he says is true, captain,

every second we delay him
could be dangerous.

And if he's lying?

This is the most critical period
in Earth's history.

The planet I am from
wants to help Earth survive.

What if it turns out you're
an invading alien from the future?

A most difficult decision, captain.

I can't beam you down without
further proof, one way or the other.

Security confinement.

This way, please.

- Sickbay.
- McCoy here.

Jim? Jim!

What's going on there?

Sickbay to Transporter Room.

Jim, what's going on down there?

Bones, check the prisoner who
you'll find in security confinement.

I want a medical analysis fast.
Is he or isn't he human?

Captain's log, supplemental.

A man in a 20th-century business suit.
What is he?

Not even Spock's Vulcan neck-pinch
could stop him.

Without our phasers, he would have
overpowered all five of us.

I find it difficult to believe the
mysterious Mr. Seven can be human.

And yet, suppose he is.

What do you make of the cat,
Mr. Spock?

Quite a lovely animal, captain.

I find myself strangely drawn to it.

This is the captain.

All science, engineering
and supervisory personnel,

lock into the Briefing Room.

Our next decision can be of enormous
consequence not only to us,

but to Earth's entire future.

You've already been given
as much information as we have.

Please break in at any time
with analysis of that information.

Navigation report.

We have analyzed
the direction of his beam, sir.

Our star maps show no habitable
planets in that area of the galaxy.

He did say
his planet was hidden, captain.

- Engineering.
- Still unable to analyse it, sir.

It was so powerful, it fused
most of our recording circuits.

Could have brought him back
through great distances,

could have brought him back through
time. There's no way for us to know.

Mr. Spock, historical report.

Current Earth crises
would fill a tape bank, captain.

There will be
an important assassination today,

an equally dangerous
government coup in Asia.

And this could be highly critical.

The launching of an orbital nuclear
warhead platform by the United States,

countering a similar launch
by other powers.

Weren't orbital nuclear devices
one of this era's greatest problems?

Most definitely.

Once the sky
was full of orbiting H-bombs,

the slightest mistake could have
brought one down by accident,

setting off a nuclear holocaust.

- McCoy here.
- Bones, hurry up with that report.

Join me in the Briefing Room
with your analysis.


You're tired. Go to sleep.

Well, I must admit,
the sensor readings seem too good.

Human readings, yes,
but not a single physical flaw.

A totally perfect body.

If an alien needed a body...

He might be inclined
to prepare a perfect one, captain.

But then again,
he may be telling the truth.

Gentlemen, I need proof.

All you're telling me is, on the one
hand, he may be lying, on the other...

Security alert. All decks alert.
Prisoner has escaped. All decks alert.

- This is the captain. Inform us...
- Bridge to captain.

Transporter circuits show
someone preparing to beam down.

Try to override. Shut it off!

I know, Isis. But we'll be gone
before they get here.

You're right, Isis. It is primitive.

Incredible that
people can exist like this.

At least we won't have to, not for long.

Computer on.

Computer on.

Specify locations
of Agents 201 and 347.

- Identify self.
- Simply check my voice pattern.

You'll find me listed as Supervisor 194,
code name Gary Seven.

Voice pattern matches,

but I have no listing of a Gary Seven
assigned this planet.

Computer, I am a class-1 supervisor.

You are ordered to override previous
instructions and answer my question.

I am a Beta 5 computer
capable of analytical decisions.

Please confirm identity as supervisor

by describing nature of agents
and mission here.

Computer, I caution you.
I have little love for Beta 5 snobbery.


All right.

Agents are male and female,
descendants of human ancestors

taken from Earth
approximately 6000 years ago.

They're the product of generations
of training for this mission.

Problem: Earth technology and
science has progressed faster

than political and social knowledge.

Purpose of mission: To prevent Earth's
civilisation from destroying itself

before it can mature
into a peaceful society.

Incomplete, but sufficient.

Location of agents
unreported for three days.

Why didn't you say so in the first
place? No, don't answer that.

Simply begin search immediately.

Recheck all news broadcasts,

decode any
government-intercepted mess...

I am aware
of proper search procedures, 194.

We can estimate only within 1000
metres or so where he beamed down.

If we beam down, can you compare
our position with his control setting?

- Aye.
- Following him down is a major risk captain.

If we ourselves do anything
that changes history...

I'm aware of that.
But I must know if he's lying.

And we can't answer that
sitting up here.

Have ship's stores
prepare the proper costumes.

Stand by to beam us down.

In response to nuclear warhead

placed in suborbit
by other major power,

United States today launching
suborbital platform

with multi-warhead capacity.

To maintain balance of power.

That's the same nonsense that
almost destroyed planet Omicron 4.

Analysis correct.
Earth situation similar.

Mission of Agents 201 and 347:

Set malfunction
on United States rocket.

Progress of mission. Has
the rocket been set to malfunction?

Negative. No progress.

How much time before launch?

Exactly one hour,
27 minutes, 12 seconds.

Computer, record the following:

Unless agents are found immediately,
I must undertake their mission.

Scotty, lock in on our position.

Lead us to him.

Locked in.
Proceed 1-9-5 degrees true.


Is anybody here?

Looks like your lucky day, Roberta.

They can't dock you
if they don't know you're late.

- Where have you been?
- Oh, the subway got stalled.

Where have you been
for the past three days?

Now, wait a minute.
Why should I tell you?

- Who are you anyway?
- Where is 347?

With 348?

201, code responses
are not necessary.

Listen, friend.

- Maybe I'd better call the police, huh?
- Sit down.

- Who do you think you are?
- I said sit down.

- Okay, I will.
- I'll say one thing for you,

you play your role well.

However, that is no longer necessary.

I am Supervisor 194,
code name Gary Seven.

- I need a complete report...
- Report?

Yes, a report.

Everything you have done
for the past three Earth days.

- Everything I've done?
- Everything you've done.

- Well, let's see.
- Not with your fingers.

Well, how do you expect me to type,
with my nose?

Did you see that?

The machine typed everything l...

It's typing everything I'm saying.

Stop it.

Stop it. Stop it.

Okay. That does it, I quit.

- Wait a minute.
- I'm quitting right now!

- You're not acting, are you?
- Acting? I'm leaving.




- Tie into computer.
- Computer on.

Scan unidentified female present.

Roberta Lincoln, human.

Profession: Secretary.
Employed by 347 and 201.

Description: Age 20, 5' 7",

120 pounds.

Hair presently tinted honey blond.

Although behaviour appears erratic,
possesses high IQ.

- Birthmarks:
- Hey.

Small mole on left shoulder,

somewhat larger
star-shaped mark on her...

Hey, watch it!

Okay, I'll bite. What is it?

Miss Lincoln...

Miss Lincoln,

what kind of work did your employers
say they were doing here?

Research for a new encyclopaedia.



All right, you can go.

Of course, if you do,
you won't be helping your country.

Unless you don't care about that.

Sure, I care. What do you think I am?

I don't know, Miss Lincoln,
what you are, not yet.

All I know is that my incompetence

has made you aware of
some very secret devices

that are vital
to the security of this nation.

Well, what are you guys
around here, anyway?

FBI? Or some kind of
government agents, huh?

Very groovy.

Thank you, Isis. I'll be right in.

It's a trained cat.

- Just like yard dogs, that kind of thing.
- Yeah?

Don't let anybody in here. I'll be busy.


- Scotty, triangulate on this location.
- Correlated.

Readings indicate a greater altitude.

Approximately 30 metres higher, sir.


Occurrence: Automobile accident.

Location: Highway 949,

10 miles north
of McKinley Rocket Base.

Agents 347 and 201
were killed instantly.

That just doesn't make sense.

For them to die in something as
useless as an automobile accident.

- Are the facts verified?
- Verified.

Descriptions of bodies are exact.

Go ahead, Scotty.

Proceed 5 metres,
2-4-7 degrees true.

Computer off.

- Where's Mr. Seven?
- I don't know what you're talking about.

- Where's Mr. Seven?
- You can't come in here. Now get out.

What do you think you're doing?
This is a government office.

- Where's Mr. Seven?
- Neither of you can come in.

In here, captain.

What do you think you're doing?
You walk in...

Send the police. 811 East 68th Street,
Apartment 12-B.

- Give me the phone.
- Get your hands off me, you big jerk!

Who do you think you are? Let go!

What do you think you're doing,
big jerk? What's the big idea?

Mr. Seven. Mr. Seven, help! Help!

Let go of me!

Stop it! Don't go in!
What's the big idea?

Get your hands off of me! I mean it!

What are you?

Stand by for launch-area clearance.

It is now 60 minutes to launch.

T minus 60 and counting.

Where's Mr. Seven?

- I've already called the police.
- Plans to McKinley Rocket Base.

There it is, Charlie.

Open up in there! Police!

Open up in there! It's the police!

Wide scan, Scotty. We'll be moving.
Spock, in here.


In there!

- Now, Scotty.
- What's going on here?

- Reverse and energize.
- Right.


It is now 50 minutes to launch.

T minus 50 and counting.

All systems clear. All systems clear.

Standing by
for inspection of launchpad.


- Speak to you a moment?
- Yeah, sure, sarge.

There it is.

- I'll have to confirm this, colonel.
- All right.

Just put the cat down
and keep your hands at your side.

All right.

Give me Security. Identification check.

Be careful, Isis. Don't get stepped on.

Yeah, Security?

Security, this is Sergeant Lipton.
We're all straightened out down here.

Right. Thank you very much. Goodbye.

All right, sergeant.

Now, let's just turn right around.
We're gonna walk this way.

You just sit right down right there
and have a little nap.

It is now 45 minutes to launch.

T minus 45 and counting.

All systems clear. All systems clear.

Stand by for inspection of launchpad.

I'm heading for the gantry.
Sound alert.

Attention. First alert. First alert.

Begin clearing gantry area.
Clear launchpad.

Safety group, clear launchpad.

All systems continue green.

Repeat. All systems still green.

Standing by
for inspection of launchpad.

There's an old-style weather satellite
in orbit below us.

If I could bounce off it,
I could get some good views.

I've got it.

I could get even closer.

If I could spot him,
I could lock on and beam him up.

Chances are he's out of sight,

inside the rocket gantry,
or at one of the control centres.

Launch is in 40 minutes.

Stand by to beam us down.
Continue visual scan.

Stand by for launch-area clearance.

Range safety verified.

Launch director now to approve
gantry to confirm launchpad clear.

Ground Stations 3, 4 and 11,
stand by for confirmation.

Stand by for launch-area clearance.

- Hi, Jack.
- Mr. Cromwell.

Launch director at gantry.
Beginning final check.

It is now 35 minutes to launch.

T minus 35 minutes and counting.

Canary Islands confirming.
They are "go" for the launch.

All ground stations confirm "go."

Lock the elevator at the top, lieutenant.
Time to get out of here.

Attention. Clear launchpad.

Repeat. Clear launchpad and gantry.

One move and you've both had it.

Intruder alert. Intruder alert.

Security to launch director.
We have unidentified intruders.

Males. A pair.
Do you want a delayed countdown?

All right, don't answer.
But you can tell him I quit.

And you can tell him
I promise not to tell anybody anything.

He's safe, and you're safe,
my little green friend.

Same to you.

Attention. Twenty minutes to launch.

T minus 20 minutes and counting.

All systems continue green.

Repeat. All systems still green.

Yes, thank you. I know how to open it.

All right. I know there's not much time.

These were all they were carrying.

T minus 15 minutes and counting.

You've got a chance,
and I'll offer it only this once.

The slightest possible charges
will be brought against you

if you identify yourselves
and tell us why you're here.

- Delayed countdown.

No sign of trouble on the boards.

Launch director.
Confirm status, all systems.

Control to launch director,

Status board indicates all is well.

Space flight conditions
measure out as planned.

Continue countdown.

No countdown delay.

Repeat, no delay.
All systems are green and "go."

All systems are "go."

T minus 14 and counting.

You are nervous, aren't you, doll?

All right.

I'm going as fast as I can.

T minus 13 minutes and counting.

Status board looks good.
Stages look good.

All systems "go."

Status board says "go."

Security, send two men up here
right away.

T minus eight minutes and counting.

All systems, "go." Status board, "go."


Stand by. I'm gonna beam him up.

I had him,
and something yanked him away.

- Doing? I wasn't finished.

I'm sorry. I just touched that button
right there, and then "pow."

Must have intercepted the Enterprise
trying to beam me onboard.

Computer on.

Lock into launch site scan.

One minute to launch.

Oh, my gosh!

Captain's log, supplemental.

Spock and I in custody.

Even if we talk,
they wouldn't believe us.

We're powerless to stop Mr. Seven
or prevent the launch,

or even be certain if we should.

I have never felt so helpless.

Thirty seconds to launch.

Look, hey, I mean, like,
not even the CIA could do all this.

T minus 20 seconds, mark.

Stages reporting ready for launch.

Automatic sequence is on.
She's completely automatic now.

Fifteen seconds to launch.

Ten seconds.

Nine, eight, seven,

six, five, four,

three, two, one.

Ignition. We have ignition.

Altitude: 1000 feet.

All good. All as planned.

Trajectory nominal.

Rocket passing 20-mile arc
and accelerating.

Computer, adjustments at
the rocket base were not completed.

Can I still take over the rocket
as planned?

Rocket control possible with
exceiver circuits operated manually.

Exceiver on manual.

Lock into flight telemetry.

Visual off.

Roberta, please don't try to leave.
You'll find all the doors locked.

Are you jealous, Isis?

It's most unbecoming.

Rocket altitude now 100 miles.

Standing by to begin malfunction
as planned.

Begin malfunction of third stage.

Exceiver setting now 90.08.


- Second stage ready to detach.
- Visual on.

Second stage detaching.

Third stage igniting.

Begin malfunction. Take it off course.

Malfunction setting correct.

Rocket veering from planned course.

Give me the readings, fast.

- What is it?
- Malfunction.

Rocket is deviating
from programmed flight path.

Safety. Stand by to destruct.

Continuing deviation from flight path.

Deviation confirmed and increasing.

Telemetry. All systems tie in.
All systems tie in. Report.

Arm the warhead.

Nuclear warhead now armed.

Set exceiver, 91.218.

Exceiver, 91.218.

Scott here.

Sensor shows that
the rocket has armed itself, Mr. Scott.

Computers indicate an impact

somewhere in the heart
of the Euro-Asian continent.

We've still time to enter close orbit
and destroy it with our phasers, sir.

They're beginning to worry
down on Earth, Mr. Scott.

I'm getting military alerts
from the major powers.

I've got to risk calling the captain.
Lieutenant, open a channel.

Aye, aye.

Orbit status confirmed.
She's armed herself somehow.

Repeat. This bird is armed.
The warhead's alive.

All boards report status.

Stand by on destruct.
Stand by to transmit destruct signal.

- How could the warhead arm itself?
- We don't know.

You can destroy it, of course.

If we can't, we're gonna lay an H-bomb
on somebody somewhere.

Ready on destruct signal.

- Destruct.
- Transmit destruct signal.

Transmit destruct signal.

Get back over there.

Look, I'm sorry.

But like you asked me,
I do care about my country.

And you can't be CIA.

- Orbital platform separating.
- Hold it!

Computer, rocket status.

Hold it, Mr. Seven!

You're through monkeying around
with my country's rocket!

Warhead still armed.
Six minutes to impact.

Hold it! Don't move!
You've done enough already!

Roberta, let me finish what I've started,
or in six minutes World War III begins.

Flight path continuing on target.

Destruct is fouled up, Flight Control.
She's coming down fully armed.

- She'll go off on impact.
- What?

Try again. Boost the signal.

Boosting signal. Boosting signal.

Flight Control,
we have boosted destruct signal.

Destruct signal at maximum boost.

Captain, can you read me?

I was beaming up Mr. Seven and
something yanked him away from me.

Hello. Hello. Come in.

- Here, let me...
- Who are you?

It's operated from this dial here.

We're getting no response.

Make absolutely certain.
Check everything again.

Tracking stations report no response
on destruct signal.

Scotty, beam us directly
to Seven's apartment.

Auxiliary transmitters
check out, Flight Control.

She hasn't destructed herself.

Repeat. Destruct is not working.
She's still up there.

Do you read? Descending and armed.
Descending and armed.

She'll go off on impact.

Bermuda Ground Station
reports she's still up there.

South Africa Ground Station

reports no response
on boosted destruct signal.

Get me the president.

Rocket descending and accelerating.

Do you have further instructions, 194?

Roberta, you've got to believe me.

Look, a truly advanced planet
wouldn't use force.

They wouldn't come here
in strange alien forms.

The best of all possible methods

would be to take human beings
to their world,

train them for generations
until they're needed here.

Mr. Seven, I wanna believe you. I do.
I mean, I know this world needs help.

That's why some of my generation are
kind of crazy and rebels, you know?

We wonder if we're gonna be alive
when we're 30.

Two minutes to impact.

Hold it right there, Mr. Seven.

Oh, no.

You're the expert. Can you detonate
the warhead from this computer?

- I can try, captain.
- Altitude: 550 miles.

I want that warhead detonated too.

Unless I do it at least 100 miles
above ground, just barely in time,

- frighten them out of this arms race...
- Captain,

monitors show
all major powers on full missile alert.

Retaliatory strike ordered
on warhead impact.

- Altitude: 450 miles.
- Spock.

I can estimate some of this, captain.
But without more time...

Captain, he can only guess.
Will you please let me do my job?

I don't know what your job is.

You may set those controls
so we can't detonate that warhead.

- Listen, you. Get away from him!
- Roberta, be careful.

The servo is set to kill.

Altitude: 400 miles.

There are only seconds.
I'll need time to set it.

Please, he's telling the truth.

Fifty-five seconds to impact.

Spock, if you can't handle it,
I'm gonna have to trust him.

It is difficult to know
which is best, captain.

Forty seconds to impact.

Without facts, the decision
cannot be made logically.

You must rely on your human intuition.

Altitude: 300 miles,

descending and accelerating.

- Go.
- Thirty seconds and...

Computer, go to visual.

Count by ten.

One hundred ninety miles.

One hundred eighty miles.

One hundred seventy miles.

One hundred sixty miles.

One hundred fifty.

One hundred forty.
One hundred thirty.

One hundred twenty.

Detonation: 104 miles.

And in spite of the accidental
interference with history

by the Earth ship from the future,

the mission was completed.

Correction, Mr. Seven.
It appears we did not interfere.

Rather, the Enterprise
was simply part of

what was supposed to happen
on this day in 1968.

As our record tapes show,
although never generally reveal,

that on this date
a malfunctioning, suborbital warhead

was exploded exactly 104 miles
above the Earth.

Well, so everything happened
exactly the way it was supposed to.

And you'll be pleased
our records show

that it resulted in a new and
stronger international agreement

against the use of such weapons.

Would you mind telling me
who that is?

- That, Miss Lincoln, is simply my cat.
- Your cat?

What else do your record tapes show?

I'm afraid we can't reveal
everything we know, Mr. Seven.

Captain, we could say
that Mr. Seven and Miss Lincoln

have some interesting experiences
in store for them.

Yes, I think we could say that.

Two to beam up, Scotty.

- Live long and prosper, Mr. Seven.
- The same to you, Miss Lincoln.