Survivors (1975–1977): Season 3, Episode 7 - The Peacemaker - full transcript
Hey up! Over here!
Coming.
Hello, there.
Travellers, eh?
- Yes, from the West Country.
- Healthy, are you?
Yes. Are you?
Nothing a good fill of shag
wouldn't cure.
Uh, we're looking for a man
called Preston. Greg Preston.
We heard he'd come this way.
He's probably heading for the coast.
Little fella, is he? Baldy?
Fifty years old?
No, he's in his 30s,
six feet tall, and fair.
Nah, not this fella.
Bald, on the short side.
- Traders?
- Well, let's say missionaries.
In that case, you should have
some fun with them mill folks.
- Eh, Larry?
- Yeah.
- What mill folk?
- See for yourself.
Over there.
Hey, would you believe,
mechanisation!
One thing,
you'll find them quite "disarming".
Welcome in peace. Your guns, please.
- Sorry?
- No guns here.
Hence "disarming".
I'll take the gun.
- I forgot that, thanks.
- All right.
These are a little heavier.
- Welcome in peace.
Thanks.
We have this rule about guns.
And yours.
They'll be locked safely away
till you're ready to leave.
Okay.
Welcome in peace.
- Jim says you're looking for someone.
- That's right.
- Name of Heston?
- Preston. He's a tall, fair chap.
Not been through here.
- Pity.
- You staying long?
- Well, that depends...
- Just overnight.
Fair enough, then.
Bunk down in the barn.
Come on, I'll show you the way.
Here we are, then.
No thanks, Hubert.
There is a proposal I'd like to
discuss with your leader sometime.
- Out of luck, mate.
- Sorry?
We don't reckon seniority and that
no more here.
Uh, well, your committee,
the whole community,
however you make decisions.
- Hello.
- Hello, I'm Charles Vaughan.
This is Jenny Richards and Hubert Goss.
I'm Frank Garner. Welcome to you all.
You're best off inside, Frank,
raw day like this.
And so are these good people.
Henry lacks finesse as a host.
Why not come inside the house
for a little comfort?
Oh, this will do fine.
- No, no, no.
- They're off first thing in the morning.
Well, they need a good night's rest.
- What about a hot bath?
- Thank you.
Come on.
- Hey up. What about the horses?
- The lad'll sort 'em.
Not while I'm hale, he won't.
Little nags like these?
Welcome in peace.
Over here and on the right.
In there.
It's cosier than the barn.
- It's most hospitable.
- But there's a price on it.
Oh?
You see, for some time now
I've been very anxious...
Oh, Henry, is the...
Is the young lady comfortable?
- Aye.
- Most anxious to...
Uh, to... to show you the mill.
- Fine.
- It's quite an achievement.
- Yes, tremendous.
- Not mine, I hasten to add.
Henry had it fixed up and running
long before I got here.
The first private enterprise venture
to get started up after the Death.
Still the thirsty little capitalist,
I were in them days.
But not now?
We're squaring up
on our priorities now.
- Eh, Frank?
- Well, no thanks to me.
Like heck. And still some way to go.
Oh, rubbish, Henry.
Everything's fine here now.
Anyway, tomorrow
we'll give you the full initiation.
Milling, sail setting,
maintenance, the lot.
Well, that's very kind.
Uh, I'd like to see it tonight if I may?
Oh, it's too late tonight,
isn't it, Henry?
The light's gone. And anyway,
it's swarming with rats after dusk,
scavenging around
for the spill from the milling.
We'll show it all to you tomorrow.
Yes, well, as it happens, we've got
another job on for the morning.
Little novelty we're hoping to
interest you gentlemen in.
Courtesy of the
Greg Preston Organisation,
commonly known as the GPO.
# There was a young couple got wed
They lived as happy as anyone
# And every night in their bed
# They went rumpy-bump-bump
curdy-diddlum #
Hubert!
- In here.
There's a bed for you in the house,
you know.
If it's all the same to you
I was gonna shake down here,
keep an eye on the horses.
That's against the rules.
- Oh, have you thought for why?
- Oh, for peace and love, brother Hubert.
Peaceable they may seem to you,
squire, but...
- But what?
- Well, for one, where's their stock?
They don't run no cattle, sheep,
nor pigs up here, you know.
Just a bunch of Satan's goats.
And for two, they' re a right shifty lot
- given to peeping and prying.
- Oh, for heaven's sake, Hubert.
Oh, you can scoff.
But you wait till
you hear their Chinese ideas.
- Chinese?
- And for three,
they got a darkie here,
black as an old boot.
Charles!
- In here, Jenny.
- Apparently, the meal's ready.
- Oh, not before time.
I could just get me choppers
around a good chump chop.
- Doesn't smell much like chops.
- Don't you recognise it?
- It's vaguely familiar.
- It's curry, surely.
You're right. I'd quite forgotten.
Come on.
Wog food?
- Second lot coming up in a minute.
All right, darling.
Yes, I know. But I've got to
serve the guests first. Okay.
- Look here, food's improving, Blossom.
- Oh, thanks.
Hello, Hubert. Not hungry?
Well, not everybody
takes to our grub straight off.
Windy nosh for windmill people, eh?
Who's this chap Preston you're after?
He's my husband.
- He's just been to Norway on a trip.
- Why Norway?
Hydroelectric power
in near limitless supplies.
Potential for re-establishing
our light industry.
Possibly even
get a refinery going again,
with oil piped in from the North Sea.
Industrial Revolution all over, eh?
- It's hardly that.
- Norwegians have very big problems,
farming's hard there.
They need food. Also technicians.
- Which you're planning to organise?
- Exactly.
Once we've linked up with Greg.
Sounds like quite a big enterprise.
It's crucial.
If that's how you rate your priorities.
Try some of this curd cheese, Hubert.
It's great with a chapati.
I'll tell you straight, woman.
I'm a man likes to get his choppers
into a nice bit of beef.
Ah, well, we've found that meat
in the diet is bad for the temperament.
It makes for aggression.
Well, I manage to be peaceable enough
on it myself, don't I, Jenny?
- Stop being fussy.
- Who, me?
Well, Rutna believes that cattle should
only be for milk and for ploughing.
Eaten only by low-caste peoples.
- Low what?
- Rutna means the untouchables, friend.
Your priorities here
are rather different, are they?
Maybe we're all of us stood at...
like a crossroads.
We must decide which way we should take.
Is the choice ever so clear-cut?
Well, it's up to us.
You see, us lot here, Mr Vaughan,
we've figured it out
like a sort of a reincarnation.
Sorry?
Mankind died and has to be born again.
- Born again to a new life.
- And a better life.
Look, after the Death
we found this place,
got it going, no trouble.
Only snag,
we was a right bunch of cavemen,
at each other's throats
at the slightest thing,
moping, griping,
or else, downright broody.
It's only a morale problem,
you're not alone in that.
- Until our Frank pitches up.
- Just in time, you know?
Took us on, see. Sorted us out.
- How, exactly?
- Got us talking, pulling together.
Oh, I only got
a sort of therapy thing going.
The real credit's due to Rutna.
You reckon us a right comedy turn,
don't you?
- Whatever you believe, it's up to you.
- And our Rutna.
- What's it mean, exactly?
- What?
- The, um, blob.
- Ah.
- Hindu prayer mark.
- Oh.
- Shows I've done me daily meditation.
- About what? Peace and love?
It's more a mood, really.
Frame of mind, like.
Serenity, tranquillity, all that.
- And Rutna taught you that?
- Sure.
Plus the right nosh to help it along.
And the fact that everything's
due to fate, the Death plague included.
- You mean...
- Predestined, wasn't it?
- Hence the way we try to live here.
- Sorry?
See, it's just got to be
our destiny, right?
You got all this from her?
- Seems shy?
- Yeah.
Do you wonder? She comes here
from the Punjab at the age of 16
to marry some bloke
she'd never even set eyes on
and then bang, the Death. You'd be shy.
- Well, it's more as though...
- What?
Serenity, you say.
But to me she seems almost hostile.
- Frightened, that's all.
- Oh.
- Of strangers.
- Of us?
I remember the hell of it all at first.
The fear and privation.
Folks weren't too Christian then.
Particularly towards Asian women.
One lot of apes actually stoned her,
would you believe.
They reckoned the plague
started out east
and our Rutna was somehow to blame.
Anyway, Frank brought her here to us.
And you know how she sees him now?
As Masterji, as she calls him.
- As a guru.
- A holy man?
Well, she worked it out
from his birthdate or something.
She reckons that
Frank is the reincarnation
of the one and only Maharashtraji.
How's that for devotion, then?
I was with a personnel selection firm,
what they used to call a headhunter.
Oh, I see.
Hence your being clued up
on psychology, the group therapy.
Well, it was pretty ineffective
till we found Rutna.
How come?
Well, she has her serenity,
and a more realistic sense of values.
What, because she sees everything
as what, predestined?
Look, mate, her people,
they've had generations
of plague and famine and that
and learned to live with it,
survive regardless.
Us, we're just beginners.
- Good night. Sleep well.
- Good night. Thanks.
- Tranquillity, remember.
- I'll try.
Please.
What is it?
I must beg to you.
- For us all.
- Beg?
You must leave here most soon.
We plan to leave
first thing in the morning,
just as soon as Charles
has got this telephone link fixed up.
Why the rush?
The Mr Charles,
he believes he sees the way,
- sees how people must live.
- Oh, yeah, man of vision.
- Your guruna?
- No.
Mine's taller, with a blond halo.
The Masterji,
he will wish to tell him much.
- Tell Charles?
- Show him a dream,
like water above the desert.
He must not listen.
Some hope.
Must close his ears,
must only leave here.
All right. But why?
There is...
- danger.
- What?
I told you, we plan to leave
first thing in the morning.
So... If he will let you.
Who?
Why?
But you can't just go around
tilting at power stations.
Oh. Oh, it's not all that quixotic.
Well, this enterprise of yours,
you must broaden it,
establish some new social organisation.
- Some alternative society.
- Well, fine, fine. But...
what form?
I mean, peace and love,
fatalism and pre-destiny?
All right, so it works for you here.
Yes, it does.
And I'm very pleased for you.
But for us, for me,
for the man in the street,
I'm afraid it's just too way out.
Time you were in your pit.
Reckoning on an early start
in the morning, aren't you?
Aye.
You can't just leave it there, Henry,
convince him.
No, no, no, Henry's right.
I've got to stay alert for the wilds.
- Good night.
- Have a good sleep.
Priorities, right?
- Good night.
- Good night.
And good riddance.
He's right, Henry.
Calling us hippies?
No, but he's right for me.
You must see that.
A mad capitalist tearaway?
You're off your rocker, old friend.
Oi! What are you doing prying around?
- Please, I come to warn you.
- Huh, what about? Out with it.
- The horses.
- What about them?
- They are sick.
- Hmm?
They eat bad hay.
- Better go and fetch the guvnor.
- Masterji?
No, no, Master Vaughan.
- What is it, Hubert?
- Quivers. Your nag's the worst.
- Are they fevered?
- Oh, we're stuck here now.
Well... How? What happened?
This, most like.
Yew sprigs.
Happened I scotched it before
they got too much down inside them.
- Yeah, but they don't look at all well.
- So what's the score now?
Well, if I get hold of some linseed oil,
they'll be right as rain by tomorrow.
It could have been worse.
They could have chose to kill them.
- Chosen? What do you mean?
- Well, it was by no accident.
They've been poisoned?
Well, none of the other nags in there
is struck, only ours.
- But why?
- I told you, didn't I?
Wog ideas.
- Aye, she did say something last night.
- Who?
Uh, Rutna, the Indian woman.
But it doesn't prove anything.
Prove what, Jenny?
I'm sorry about all this.
Rutna asked me to give you that.
Linseed.
Quite bright for a darkie, isn't she?
It must have been a bad truss of hay
or something.
Really?
Well, anyway, one or two days' delay
will give us more chance to talk.
- If they'll let you.
- I beg your pardon?
Your shadow.
Right, let's get this telephone hook-up
sorted out and you can be on your way.
- You're joking.
- What do you mean?
No horses.
You tell him, Frank.
Chaperones?
- I don't know what you're on about.
No?
Perhaps "guards"
would be a better word.
Look, friend, just watch it.
Frank Garner's like
fresh air and sunlight to us.
And you don't want him polluted,
is that it?
What?
Why should he want to poison our horses?
- You're bonkers.
- Am I?
He's desperate to keep us at the mill.
Now, why?
Might be he fancies a change of company.
- It's more than that.
- You reckon?
He doesn't buy it, you know.
Buy what?
All your fatalism and pre-destiny stuff?
Like you.
He reckons it's a load of cobblers.
So?
Come on, let's get on with this.
- Amazing.
- Please?
A community of a dozen people,
all British,
and within a year
you've converted them to vegetarians,
worshipping Vishnu, or Brahma,
or whoever.
But they have not taken to our gods,
not a one.
You must see, Jenny, Hinduism,
it is not like your Christianity.
More, it is a way of life than a,
how you call, a religion.
Oh.
Also, it was not with me
to convert them.
This was totally 100%
the wish of the Masterji.
But how?
Always when we gather in the evening,
he's asking questions,
asking and leading a little here,
a little there,
and so we have come to it together.
I see.
Right, now clip the red one
onto that one.
And now the black one
on the one higher up.
Careful!
Look, mate, Tarzan on a building site,
wasn't I?
What's the time?
Just on 4:00.
All right, come on down,
we'll give it a try.
- Hello?
- Nothing?
- Don't say all that work for nowt.
- Hello?
- Hello, Pet?
- Charlie. Where are you?
I'll tell you in a minute.
Say hello to Henry here,
he needs convincing.
Hello?
Psst!
- Hey.
- What is it?
- Do us a favour, girl.
- What?
Quick kitchen job.
Oh, Hubert, you wretched old man.
A lead on Greg.
Forget Greg. Come back here
where you're wanted,
where you're more use.
More what?
Uh, listen...
We met someone who had news of Greg
and said he was going to the coast,
heading for the Norfolk coast.
So what?
Look, how are you all there?
Have you settled in?
We've got five more here
from Whitecross.
Agnes is on the mend
and she'll be coming here
as soon as she's fit to travel.
What?
Pet, I'm sorry, I can't hear you.
Tell Jenny that the kids are all right.
Goodbye, Pet.
Norfolk coast.
Well, it's up to maximum range,
in the absence of
a good, punchy battery.
So we'll have to wait
for the GPO connection, then?
I'm afraid so.
Come on, then.
I'll show you something
that really does work.
The mill?
What's this?
- Striking chain.
Pull it and see.
It's like putting her in gear.
It closes the vents
so the wind can get to work.
The mill wouldn't go without it.
Start her turning. Right.
Now, come and see her roll.
It's marvellous.
All this massive gearing
and yet it's so gentle.
And, all automatic.
The fan-tail out there keeps the sails
square on to the wind.
There's a governor to open
the sail vents up a bit
if she gets going too fast.
All we do is set the stones
for the required fineness of flour,
fill the hopper and leave her to it.
What about the bearings?
Made of bronze. Main one's right there.
Now, this is the hoist
to lift the grain sacks
up to the floor below us.
The stone floor. Come and see.
We found their records.
Been 160 years of milling here.
All but non-stop.
Welcome in peace.
Are you well?
Aye, as well as may be,
after starting out at 4:00 this morning.
Mike! Customer.
Settle them into the barn, will you?
Yeah, won't be a minute.
The grain creeps down from the middle
of the top grinding stone there.
- Is this the governor?
- Aye.
Wind gets up too high,
them two weights lift out
with the centrifugal force,
operating that linkage up to the sails,
which opens up the shutter vent a bit
to slow her down.
It's ingenious.
No credit to us.
Welcome in peace. Your guns, please.
You being funny, my lad?
I'm sorry, sir, no guns.
It's a rule here.
Away you go, son.
Sorry, friend, but all mill customers
have to surrender their weapons.
- Oh, aye?
- Just while they're here.
- Shove off.
- It's our non-violence rule.
Aye. And you know what you can do
about that, don't you?
Please.
Listen, monkey, do you think
I'm soft in the head or something?
- Look, there's no danger.
- Oh, no?
This is a hard wee world
we live in, right?
If you think I'm going to be
stupid enough to hand over my gun
to you shower of weirdo hippies,
you've got another think coming.
- Now, shove off!
- Mike!
Come on. Something's up!
What the hell's going on?
They're taking the chain.
Into the house.
- Where's Jenny?
- She's gone on ahead.
- We'll take care of that.
- Right.
- Go see what Jim's up to.
- Here.
Hey! Leave that chain there!
Come on.
Fix that door!
Please. I beg you. Not the guns.
Here, brother.
You plays your little games. Fine!
Different set of rules
for the rest of us.
- Listen, unless you give us a chance...
- A chance?
This here's the only
chance-getter now. Yeah!
So what do we do now?
You have a rule, you live by it.
Christ, Gandhi.
We're not the first, you know.
You're joking.
Men like that, they live by the gun.
You can't reason with them.
I mean, what if he goes mad
and really kills someone?
He won't, mate.
- Are you so damn sure?
- Never lost anyone yet.
Where's Hubert?
Uh, I fear he's attending
to the demands of nature.
Not that curry still?
In a manner of speaking.
Does this happen often?
- Not so much lately.
- Hey! You monkeys in there.
You'd best get out here and fast.
I'm warning yous. Don't think yous
can play around with me.
I'll give yous 10 seconds
to get out here
and bring that chain with you.
Or I'll put a torch
to your precious mill.
- Burn it?
- Just bluff.
You'd better be sure.
Do you hear me in there?
If not, well...
That mill's unique.
So is our community, Mr Vaughan.
Our beliefs.
One...
two...
three...
I mean it, monkeys!
...five...
- six...
Hey, Mac!
- Aye, what is it?
- Here.
- Why don't we settle for this lot, eh?
- Oh-ho. Aye, why not?
You leave that flour where it is!
Leave it!
Shut your mouth, old man.
Beliefs!
You're just opting out.
What?
Someone could get killed any minute.
And why? Because of this.
Because you're abdicating authority.
Charles, look, there's Hubert.
Hey. In there.
- Right, that's it.
- Hang on.
To hell with peace.
Drop it, eejit.
You heard.
What the...
That's enough! Oi!
Peace and non-violence, eh?
- You started it.
And you can finish it.
Hand it over or he gets it.
No one gets anything.
Just hand it over, mate.
Get back!
That's a lot of fuss and noise
over a sack of flour.
You okay?
Thanks to you, yes.
You wouldn't have got clobbered eh, dad?
Not if you'd stuck by rules.
Aw, did he get a bump, then?
Well, show Blossom.
She knows how to make it better.
Get the mill started again.
Right. We'll give you a hand
with the chain.
Frank's inside.
I believe he has summat to ask you.
Alone?
Aye. Why not?
He says you're a non-believer.
Me?
Hmm.
All this fatalism,
pre-destiny bit,
he says you don't buy it.
As a sort of therapy, I do.
Well, Henry certainly proved something
with it out there just now.
Most impressive.
Yes, it was.
And it was just what he needed, too.
Oh?
To give him confidence.
See, it worries him,
my being a non-believer.
Why, because he respects you,
your views?
No, because he imagines
that he needs me still.
So do all the others.
Rutna included.
Hey.
What's wrong?
You...
You and that man Charles...
What?
You will take him.
Who? Where?
Why? Why you think
he give the yew leaves to your horses?
You mean your Masterji?
It was for time.
For time to persuade
the man Charles.
Persuade Charles?
He wants...
He wants to go with you.
Protected, as you say. Chaperoned.
All of them fussing over me,
telling me I'm too frail to move on?
To spread the word?
I'm not strong enough to do
what you're doing, Charles.
This escape.
They're scared and they're insecure.
Perfect example
of group therapy jitters.
The therapist,
their guide and their support.
Nudging, prodding, nurturing.
But when he decides that they're cured
and ready to stand on their own,
then he has to move on. He must.
- And they don't like it?
- Not one bit.
Now, please. Please.
If you accept that
I've helped you at all...
Well, of course you've helped us, Frank.
Then you must let me go,
so that I can help others.
It's your health, Frank.
- But I'm perfectly all right.
- What about the times you've fainted?
Now, look, we're in danger
of getting selfish here.
All the best gurus
have to travel, right?
- But his health!
- Won't bloom with sheltering.
Now, Mr Vaughan has shown
that he's a man who cares, right?
Mmm-hmm.
Well, if Frank reckons he has to go,
who better than Charles Vaughan
to keep an eye out for him, eh?
How are you feeling?
Empty as a ram's codge at topping.
Oh, thought you might.
Here. For the patient.
Egg special. Tuck in.
- Do you like it?
- Mmm-hmm.
Well, let's see it, then.
- Well...
- Oh, no, Dad.
Your aura.
- You what?
- The waves you give off, from here.
Waves?
Aura emissions.
Mood, temperament.
Nobody ever tell you about auras before?
- No.
- Hang about.
Here.
Now, Charles Vaughan's mission
is crucial, as he said.
And one in which
I can perhaps be of help,
as a headhunter.
Selecting the right people
for the right jobs.
My destiny? Perhaps.
But should I go against that?
But I promise you that I will come back.
He will not return.
- He has not the strength.
- You love him, don't you?
Then fight it, don't just give in.
- The guru must travel.
- Guru!
He doesn't believe in that.
He's just using it and you.
Just as he's using Charles
and Hubert and me.
All this talk of missions.
Can you not see that?
It's all selfishness, it's hypocrisy,
getting his own way. You must see that.
- If you say it.
- Well, what do you say?
It's all this idiotic destiny,
I suppose, fate.
Just shrug your shoulders,
bow your head and accept it.
Like everything else,
the Death plague included?
Death, birth, famine, plenty,
drought, monsoons.
How should we challenge
such things, Jenny? How?
You really are the eternal survivor,
aren't you?
And that's why the Masterji found me
and brought me here.
To help these people find their new way.
And why it is also I must now stay.
Stay in silence,
not help you to stop him.
Oh, please, Jenny,
it's hard enough for her as it is.
She worships him.
So, for goodness sake, try and help.
Help what?
- Him escape?
Jenny!
It's all just a cheap, dirty excuse.
Escape what?
- From responsibility, from her love.
It's the truth.
Exactly, damn it, the same as you.
- As me?
- Yes. All this high talk of
pilgrimages and missions
and blessed Norway.
You're a child.
You're a little boy playing
at pilgrimages.
- Now, stop this.
- It's the truth.
Oh, you may con yourself,
you may pretend it's for real,
but you don't fool us. Not me nor Pet.
It's just a pathetic excuse to go
swanning off and be fancy-free.
- You just can't forgive him, can you?
- Who?
Greg. That's what all this is all about,
all this fuss.
All right, Mr Clever,
maybe Greg is as irresponsible
as you two.
- Maybe.
- Except...
what's really bugging you,
what's been gnawing away at your gut
for the last nine months is...
- is fear, uncertainty.
- Of what?
Of the fact that Greg might not love you
as he said he has.
- What?
- That he might see your love,
that your feelings, he might resent them
because he might see them as love
- but as possessiveness.
- Oh, typical.
You would have to say that,
wouldn't you?
Your typical reaction.
The little woman, clinging and
dependent. Well, it's not true!
No? You were quick enough
to leave the children.
That's not fair.
Intuitive, aren't you?
I know Rutna loves me. Of course I do.
And I love her.
Then why don't you stay with her?
Because...
Because, and you must promise
not to tell anybody...
Give me your hand.
- What is it?
- It's a pacemaker.
To stimulate the heartbeat.
I had a severe heart block
about eight years ago,
and this pacemaker was installed
to keep the pulse up to normal.
It has a five-year battery.
All quite routine in the days
when heart surgery and isotopic
nuclear batteries were available.
- Frank, how...
- How long?
Who knows? A year, two years.
They said something about fainting.
Well, it goes on the blink
every once in a while
and I give it a little reminder
to keep it up to the mark.
- And they don't know?
- No.
And they must never know, any of them.
And least of all, Rutna.
Be sure and carry on
the good work.
And spread the Brahminic word.
Now, look, this is all very well,
but suppose...
Don't worry, Jenny. Don't worry.
He won't hold us back.
- Henry's told me the way.
- Where to?
Uh, a bloke they've heard of who's
qualified in electrical engineering.
Yes, his name is Campbell. He was with
the Electricity Generating Board.
- But Charles...
- The settlement he's with,
- it's roughly east of here, yes?
- Roughly.
- Charles, look...
- We can't just go rushing past, Jenny.
- You promised!
- I'm sorry, Jenny.
This man could be a key technician
for Norway,
for everything Greg's driving at.
Excuses!
I'll be back.
Keep it all fresh and alive
for them, Henry.
Now give me something hard to do.
Oh, keeping them from getting dependent
on you is the hard part.
Coming.
Hello, there.
Travellers, eh?
- Yes, from the West Country.
- Healthy, are you?
Yes. Are you?
Nothing a good fill of shag
wouldn't cure.
Uh, we're looking for a man
called Preston. Greg Preston.
We heard he'd come this way.
He's probably heading for the coast.
Little fella, is he? Baldy?
Fifty years old?
No, he's in his 30s,
six feet tall, and fair.
Nah, not this fella.
Bald, on the short side.
- Traders?
- Well, let's say missionaries.
In that case, you should have
some fun with them mill folks.
- Eh, Larry?
- Yeah.
- What mill folk?
- See for yourself.
Over there.
Hey, would you believe,
mechanisation!
One thing,
you'll find them quite "disarming".
Welcome in peace. Your guns, please.
- Sorry?
- No guns here.
Hence "disarming".
I'll take the gun.
- I forgot that, thanks.
- All right.
These are a little heavier.
- Welcome in peace.
Thanks.
We have this rule about guns.
And yours.
They'll be locked safely away
till you're ready to leave.
Okay.
Welcome in peace.
- Jim says you're looking for someone.
- That's right.
- Name of Heston?
- Preston. He's a tall, fair chap.
Not been through here.
- Pity.
- You staying long?
- Well, that depends...
- Just overnight.
Fair enough, then.
Bunk down in the barn.
Come on, I'll show you the way.
Here we are, then.
No thanks, Hubert.
There is a proposal I'd like to
discuss with your leader sometime.
- Out of luck, mate.
- Sorry?
We don't reckon seniority and that
no more here.
Uh, well, your committee,
the whole community,
however you make decisions.
- Hello.
- Hello, I'm Charles Vaughan.
This is Jenny Richards and Hubert Goss.
I'm Frank Garner. Welcome to you all.
You're best off inside, Frank,
raw day like this.
And so are these good people.
Henry lacks finesse as a host.
Why not come inside the house
for a little comfort?
Oh, this will do fine.
- No, no, no.
- They're off first thing in the morning.
Well, they need a good night's rest.
- What about a hot bath?
- Thank you.
Come on.
- Hey up. What about the horses?
- The lad'll sort 'em.
Not while I'm hale, he won't.
Little nags like these?
Welcome in peace.
Over here and on the right.
In there.
It's cosier than the barn.
- It's most hospitable.
- But there's a price on it.
Oh?
You see, for some time now
I've been very anxious...
Oh, Henry, is the...
Is the young lady comfortable?
- Aye.
- Most anxious to...
Uh, to... to show you the mill.
- Fine.
- It's quite an achievement.
- Yes, tremendous.
- Not mine, I hasten to add.
Henry had it fixed up and running
long before I got here.
The first private enterprise venture
to get started up after the Death.
Still the thirsty little capitalist,
I were in them days.
But not now?
We're squaring up
on our priorities now.
- Eh, Frank?
- Well, no thanks to me.
Like heck. And still some way to go.
Oh, rubbish, Henry.
Everything's fine here now.
Anyway, tomorrow
we'll give you the full initiation.
Milling, sail setting,
maintenance, the lot.
Well, that's very kind.
Uh, I'd like to see it tonight if I may?
Oh, it's too late tonight,
isn't it, Henry?
The light's gone. And anyway,
it's swarming with rats after dusk,
scavenging around
for the spill from the milling.
We'll show it all to you tomorrow.
Yes, well, as it happens, we've got
another job on for the morning.
Little novelty we're hoping to
interest you gentlemen in.
Courtesy of the
Greg Preston Organisation,
commonly known as the GPO.
# There was a young couple got wed
They lived as happy as anyone
# And every night in their bed
# They went rumpy-bump-bump
curdy-diddlum #
Hubert!
- In here.
There's a bed for you in the house,
you know.
If it's all the same to you
I was gonna shake down here,
keep an eye on the horses.
That's against the rules.
- Oh, have you thought for why?
- Oh, for peace and love, brother Hubert.
Peaceable they may seem to you,
squire, but...
- But what?
- Well, for one, where's their stock?
They don't run no cattle, sheep,
nor pigs up here, you know.
Just a bunch of Satan's goats.
And for two, they' re a right shifty lot
- given to peeping and prying.
- Oh, for heaven's sake, Hubert.
Oh, you can scoff.
But you wait till
you hear their Chinese ideas.
- Chinese?
- And for three,
they got a darkie here,
black as an old boot.
Charles!
- In here, Jenny.
- Apparently, the meal's ready.
- Oh, not before time.
I could just get me choppers
around a good chump chop.
- Doesn't smell much like chops.
- Don't you recognise it?
- It's vaguely familiar.
- It's curry, surely.
You're right. I'd quite forgotten.
Come on.
Wog food?
- Second lot coming up in a minute.
All right, darling.
Yes, I know. But I've got to
serve the guests first. Okay.
- Look here, food's improving, Blossom.
- Oh, thanks.
Hello, Hubert. Not hungry?
Well, not everybody
takes to our grub straight off.
Windy nosh for windmill people, eh?
Who's this chap Preston you're after?
He's my husband.
- He's just been to Norway on a trip.
- Why Norway?
Hydroelectric power
in near limitless supplies.
Potential for re-establishing
our light industry.
Possibly even
get a refinery going again,
with oil piped in from the North Sea.
Industrial Revolution all over, eh?
- It's hardly that.
- Norwegians have very big problems,
farming's hard there.
They need food. Also technicians.
- Which you're planning to organise?
- Exactly.
Once we've linked up with Greg.
Sounds like quite a big enterprise.
It's crucial.
If that's how you rate your priorities.
Try some of this curd cheese, Hubert.
It's great with a chapati.
I'll tell you straight, woman.
I'm a man likes to get his choppers
into a nice bit of beef.
Ah, well, we've found that meat
in the diet is bad for the temperament.
It makes for aggression.
Well, I manage to be peaceable enough
on it myself, don't I, Jenny?
- Stop being fussy.
- Who, me?
Well, Rutna believes that cattle should
only be for milk and for ploughing.
Eaten only by low-caste peoples.
- Low what?
- Rutna means the untouchables, friend.
Your priorities here
are rather different, are they?
Maybe we're all of us stood at...
like a crossroads.
We must decide which way we should take.
Is the choice ever so clear-cut?
Well, it's up to us.
You see, us lot here, Mr Vaughan,
we've figured it out
like a sort of a reincarnation.
Sorry?
Mankind died and has to be born again.
- Born again to a new life.
- And a better life.
Look, after the Death
we found this place,
got it going, no trouble.
Only snag,
we was a right bunch of cavemen,
at each other's throats
at the slightest thing,
moping, griping,
or else, downright broody.
It's only a morale problem,
you're not alone in that.
- Until our Frank pitches up.
- Just in time, you know?
Took us on, see. Sorted us out.
- How, exactly?
- Got us talking, pulling together.
Oh, I only got
a sort of therapy thing going.
The real credit's due to Rutna.
You reckon us a right comedy turn,
don't you?
- Whatever you believe, it's up to you.
- And our Rutna.
- What's it mean, exactly?
- What?
- The, um, blob.
- Ah.
- Hindu prayer mark.
- Oh.
- Shows I've done me daily meditation.
- About what? Peace and love?
It's more a mood, really.
Frame of mind, like.
Serenity, tranquillity, all that.
- And Rutna taught you that?
- Sure.
Plus the right nosh to help it along.
And the fact that everything's
due to fate, the Death plague included.
- You mean...
- Predestined, wasn't it?
- Hence the way we try to live here.
- Sorry?
See, it's just got to be
our destiny, right?
You got all this from her?
- Seems shy?
- Yeah.
Do you wonder? She comes here
from the Punjab at the age of 16
to marry some bloke
she'd never even set eyes on
and then bang, the Death. You'd be shy.
- Well, it's more as though...
- What?
Serenity, you say.
But to me she seems almost hostile.
- Frightened, that's all.
- Oh.
- Of strangers.
- Of us?
I remember the hell of it all at first.
The fear and privation.
Folks weren't too Christian then.
Particularly towards Asian women.
One lot of apes actually stoned her,
would you believe.
They reckoned the plague
started out east
and our Rutna was somehow to blame.
Anyway, Frank brought her here to us.
And you know how she sees him now?
As Masterji, as she calls him.
- As a guru.
- A holy man?
Well, she worked it out
from his birthdate or something.
She reckons that
Frank is the reincarnation
of the one and only Maharashtraji.
How's that for devotion, then?
I was with a personnel selection firm,
what they used to call a headhunter.
Oh, I see.
Hence your being clued up
on psychology, the group therapy.
Well, it was pretty ineffective
till we found Rutna.
How come?
Well, she has her serenity,
and a more realistic sense of values.
What, because she sees everything
as what, predestined?
Look, mate, her people,
they've had generations
of plague and famine and that
and learned to live with it,
survive regardless.
Us, we're just beginners.
- Good night. Sleep well.
- Good night. Thanks.
- Tranquillity, remember.
- I'll try.
Please.
What is it?
I must beg to you.
- For us all.
- Beg?
You must leave here most soon.
We plan to leave
first thing in the morning,
just as soon as Charles
has got this telephone link fixed up.
Why the rush?
The Mr Charles,
he believes he sees the way,
- sees how people must live.
- Oh, yeah, man of vision.
- Your guruna?
- No.
Mine's taller, with a blond halo.
The Masterji,
he will wish to tell him much.
- Tell Charles?
- Show him a dream,
like water above the desert.
He must not listen.
Some hope.
Must close his ears,
must only leave here.
All right. But why?
There is...
- danger.
- What?
I told you, we plan to leave
first thing in the morning.
So... If he will let you.
Who?
Why?
But you can't just go around
tilting at power stations.
Oh. Oh, it's not all that quixotic.
Well, this enterprise of yours,
you must broaden it,
establish some new social organisation.
- Some alternative society.
- Well, fine, fine. But...
what form?
I mean, peace and love,
fatalism and pre-destiny?
All right, so it works for you here.
Yes, it does.
And I'm very pleased for you.
But for us, for me,
for the man in the street,
I'm afraid it's just too way out.
Time you were in your pit.
Reckoning on an early start
in the morning, aren't you?
Aye.
You can't just leave it there, Henry,
convince him.
No, no, no, Henry's right.
I've got to stay alert for the wilds.
- Good night.
- Have a good sleep.
Priorities, right?
- Good night.
- Good night.
And good riddance.
He's right, Henry.
Calling us hippies?
No, but he's right for me.
You must see that.
A mad capitalist tearaway?
You're off your rocker, old friend.
Oi! What are you doing prying around?
- Please, I come to warn you.
- Huh, what about? Out with it.
- The horses.
- What about them?
- They are sick.
- Hmm?
They eat bad hay.
- Better go and fetch the guvnor.
- Masterji?
No, no, Master Vaughan.
- What is it, Hubert?
- Quivers. Your nag's the worst.
- Are they fevered?
- Oh, we're stuck here now.
Well... How? What happened?
This, most like.
Yew sprigs.
Happened I scotched it before
they got too much down inside them.
- Yeah, but they don't look at all well.
- So what's the score now?
Well, if I get hold of some linseed oil,
they'll be right as rain by tomorrow.
It could have been worse.
They could have chose to kill them.
- Chosen? What do you mean?
- Well, it was by no accident.
They've been poisoned?
Well, none of the other nags in there
is struck, only ours.
- But why?
- I told you, didn't I?
Wog ideas.
- Aye, she did say something last night.
- Who?
Uh, Rutna, the Indian woman.
But it doesn't prove anything.
Prove what, Jenny?
I'm sorry about all this.
Rutna asked me to give you that.
Linseed.
Quite bright for a darkie, isn't she?
It must have been a bad truss of hay
or something.
Really?
Well, anyway, one or two days' delay
will give us more chance to talk.
- If they'll let you.
- I beg your pardon?
Your shadow.
Right, let's get this telephone hook-up
sorted out and you can be on your way.
- You're joking.
- What do you mean?
No horses.
You tell him, Frank.
Chaperones?
- I don't know what you're on about.
No?
Perhaps "guards"
would be a better word.
Look, friend, just watch it.
Frank Garner's like
fresh air and sunlight to us.
And you don't want him polluted,
is that it?
What?
Why should he want to poison our horses?
- You're bonkers.
- Am I?
He's desperate to keep us at the mill.
Now, why?
Might be he fancies a change of company.
- It's more than that.
- You reckon?
He doesn't buy it, you know.
Buy what?
All your fatalism and pre-destiny stuff?
Like you.
He reckons it's a load of cobblers.
So?
Come on, let's get on with this.
- Amazing.
- Please?
A community of a dozen people,
all British,
and within a year
you've converted them to vegetarians,
worshipping Vishnu, or Brahma,
or whoever.
But they have not taken to our gods,
not a one.
You must see, Jenny, Hinduism,
it is not like your Christianity.
More, it is a way of life than a,
how you call, a religion.
Oh.
Also, it was not with me
to convert them.
This was totally 100%
the wish of the Masterji.
But how?
Always when we gather in the evening,
he's asking questions,
asking and leading a little here,
a little there,
and so we have come to it together.
I see.
Right, now clip the red one
onto that one.
And now the black one
on the one higher up.
Careful!
Look, mate, Tarzan on a building site,
wasn't I?
What's the time?
Just on 4:00.
All right, come on down,
we'll give it a try.
- Hello?
- Nothing?
- Don't say all that work for nowt.
- Hello?
- Hello, Pet?
- Charlie. Where are you?
I'll tell you in a minute.
Say hello to Henry here,
he needs convincing.
Hello?
Psst!
- Hey.
- What is it?
- Do us a favour, girl.
- What?
Quick kitchen job.
Oh, Hubert, you wretched old man.
A lead on Greg.
Forget Greg. Come back here
where you're wanted,
where you're more use.
More what?
Uh, listen...
We met someone who had news of Greg
and said he was going to the coast,
heading for the Norfolk coast.
So what?
Look, how are you all there?
Have you settled in?
We've got five more here
from Whitecross.
Agnes is on the mend
and she'll be coming here
as soon as she's fit to travel.
What?
Pet, I'm sorry, I can't hear you.
Tell Jenny that the kids are all right.
Goodbye, Pet.
Norfolk coast.
Well, it's up to maximum range,
in the absence of
a good, punchy battery.
So we'll have to wait
for the GPO connection, then?
I'm afraid so.
Come on, then.
I'll show you something
that really does work.
The mill?
What's this?
- Striking chain.
Pull it and see.
It's like putting her in gear.
It closes the vents
so the wind can get to work.
The mill wouldn't go without it.
Start her turning. Right.
Now, come and see her roll.
It's marvellous.
All this massive gearing
and yet it's so gentle.
And, all automatic.
The fan-tail out there keeps the sails
square on to the wind.
There's a governor to open
the sail vents up a bit
if she gets going too fast.
All we do is set the stones
for the required fineness of flour,
fill the hopper and leave her to it.
What about the bearings?
Made of bronze. Main one's right there.
Now, this is the hoist
to lift the grain sacks
up to the floor below us.
The stone floor. Come and see.
We found their records.
Been 160 years of milling here.
All but non-stop.
Welcome in peace.
Are you well?
Aye, as well as may be,
after starting out at 4:00 this morning.
Mike! Customer.
Settle them into the barn, will you?
Yeah, won't be a minute.
The grain creeps down from the middle
of the top grinding stone there.
- Is this the governor?
- Aye.
Wind gets up too high,
them two weights lift out
with the centrifugal force,
operating that linkage up to the sails,
which opens up the shutter vent a bit
to slow her down.
It's ingenious.
No credit to us.
Welcome in peace. Your guns, please.
You being funny, my lad?
I'm sorry, sir, no guns.
It's a rule here.
Away you go, son.
Sorry, friend, but all mill customers
have to surrender their weapons.
- Oh, aye?
- Just while they're here.
- Shove off.
- It's our non-violence rule.
Aye. And you know what you can do
about that, don't you?
Please.
Listen, monkey, do you think
I'm soft in the head or something?
- Look, there's no danger.
- Oh, no?
This is a hard wee world
we live in, right?
If you think I'm going to be
stupid enough to hand over my gun
to you shower of weirdo hippies,
you've got another think coming.
- Now, shove off!
- Mike!
Come on. Something's up!
What the hell's going on?
They're taking the chain.
Into the house.
- Where's Jenny?
- She's gone on ahead.
- We'll take care of that.
- Right.
- Go see what Jim's up to.
- Here.
Hey! Leave that chain there!
Come on.
Fix that door!
Please. I beg you. Not the guns.
Here, brother.
You plays your little games. Fine!
Different set of rules
for the rest of us.
- Listen, unless you give us a chance...
- A chance?
This here's the only
chance-getter now. Yeah!
So what do we do now?
You have a rule, you live by it.
Christ, Gandhi.
We're not the first, you know.
You're joking.
Men like that, they live by the gun.
You can't reason with them.
I mean, what if he goes mad
and really kills someone?
He won't, mate.
- Are you so damn sure?
- Never lost anyone yet.
Where's Hubert?
Uh, I fear he's attending
to the demands of nature.
Not that curry still?
In a manner of speaking.
Does this happen often?
- Not so much lately.
- Hey! You monkeys in there.
You'd best get out here and fast.
I'm warning yous. Don't think yous
can play around with me.
I'll give yous 10 seconds
to get out here
and bring that chain with you.
Or I'll put a torch
to your precious mill.
- Burn it?
- Just bluff.
You'd better be sure.
Do you hear me in there?
If not, well...
That mill's unique.
So is our community, Mr Vaughan.
Our beliefs.
One...
two...
three...
I mean it, monkeys!
...five...
- six...
Hey, Mac!
- Aye, what is it?
- Here.
- Why don't we settle for this lot, eh?
- Oh-ho. Aye, why not?
You leave that flour where it is!
Leave it!
Shut your mouth, old man.
Beliefs!
You're just opting out.
What?
Someone could get killed any minute.
And why? Because of this.
Because you're abdicating authority.
Charles, look, there's Hubert.
Hey. In there.
- Right, that's it.
- Hang on.
To hell with peace.
Drop it, eejit.
You heard.
What the...
That's enough! Oi!
Peace and non-violence, eh?
- You started it.
And you can finish it.
Hand it over or he gets it.
No one gets anything.
Just hand it over, mate.
Get back!
That's a lot of fuss and noise
over a sack of flour.
You okay?
Thanks to you, yes.
You wouldn't have got clobbered eh, dad?
Not if you'd stuck by rules.
Aw, did he get a bump, then?
Well, show Blossom.
She knows how to make it better.
Get the mill started again.
Right. We'll give you a hand
with the chain.
Frank's inside.
I believe he has summat to ask you.
Alone?
Aye. Why not?
He says you're a non-believer.
Me?
Hmm.
All this fatalism,
pre-destiny bit,
he says you don't buy it.
As a sort of therapy, I do.
Well, Henry certainly proved something
with it out there just now.
Most impressive.
Yes, it was.
And it was just what he needed, too.
Oh?
To give him confidence.
See, it worries him,
my being a non-believer.
Why, because he respects you,
your views?
No, because he imagines
that he needs me still.
So do all the others.
Rutna included.
Hey.
What's wrong?
You...
You and that man Charles...
What?
You will take him.
Who? Where?
Why? Why you think
he give the yew leaves to your horses?
You mean your Masterji?
It was for time.
For time to persuade
the man Charles.
Persuade Charles?
He wants...
He wants to go with you.
Protected, as you say. Chaperoned.
All of them fussing over me,
telling me I'm too frail to move on?
To spread the word?
I'm not strong enough to do
what you're doing, Charles.
This escape.
They're scared and they're insecure.
Perfect example
of group therapy jitters.
The therapist,
their guide and their support.
Nudging, prodding, nurturing.
But when he decides that they're cured
and ready to stand on their own,
then he has to move on. He must.
- And they don't like it?
- Not one bit.
Now, please. Please.
If you accept that
I've helped you at all...
Well, of course you've helped us, Frank.
Then you must let me go,
so that I can help others.
It's your health, Frank.
- But I'm perfectly all right.
- What about the times you've fainted?
Now, look, we're in danger
of getting selfish here.
All the best gurus
have to travel, right?
- But his health!
- Won't bloom with sheltering.
Now, Mr Vaughan has shown
that he's a man who cares, right?
Mmm-hmm.
Well, if Frank reckons he has to go,
who better than Charles Vaughan
to keep an eye out for him, eh?
How are you feeling?
Empty as a ram's codge at topping.
Oh, thought you might.
Here. For the patient.
Egg special. Tuck in.
- Do you like it?
- Mmm-hmm.
Well, let's see it, then.
- Well...
- Oh, no, Dad.
Your aura.
- You what?
- The waves you give off, from here.
Waves?
Aura emissions.
Mood, temperament.
Nobody ever tell you about auras before?
- No.
- Hang about.
Here.
Now, Charles Vaughan's mission
is crucial, as he said.
And one in which
I can perhaps be of help,
as a headhunter.
Selecting the right people
for the right jobs.
My destiny? Perhaps.
But should I go against that?
But I promise you that I will come back.
He will not return.
- He has not the strength.
- You love him, don't you?
Then fight it, don't just give in.
- The guru must travel.
- Guru!
He doesn't believe in that.
He's just using it and you.
Just as he's using Charles
and Hubert and me.
All this talk of missions.
Can you not see that?
It's all selfishness, it's hypocrisy,
getting his own way. You must see that.
- If you say it.
- Well, what do you say?
It's all this idiotic destiny,
I suppose, fate.
Just shrug your shoulders,
bow your head and accept it.
Like everything else,
the Death plague included?
Death, birth, famine, plenty,
drought, monsoons.
How should we challenge
such things, Jenny? How?
You really are the eternal survivor,
aren't you?
And that's why the Masterji found me
and brought me here.
To help these people find their new way.
And why it is also I must now stay.
Stay in silence,
not help you to stop him.
Oh, please, Jenny,
it's hard enough for her as it is.
She worships him.
So, for goodness sake, try and help.
Help what?
- Him escape?
Jenny!
It's all just a cheap, dirty excuse.
Escape what?
- From responsibility, from her love.
It's the truth.
Exactly, damn it, the same as you.
- As me?
- Yes. All this high talk of
pilgrimages and missions
and blessed Norway.
You're a child.
You're a little boy playing
at pilgrimages.
- Now, stop this.
- It's the truth.
Oh, you may con yourself,
you may pretend it's for real,
but you don't fool us. Not me nor Pet.
It's just a pathetic excuse to go
swanning off and be fancy-free.
- You just can't forgive him, can you?
- Who?
Greg. That's what all this is all about,
all this fuss.
All right, Mr Clever,
maybe Greg is as irresponsible
as you two.
- Maybe.
- Except...
what's really bugging you,
what's been gnawing away at your gut
for the last nine months is...
- is fear, uncertainty.
- Of what?
Of the fact that Greg might not love you
as he said he has.
- What?
- That he might see your love,
that your feelings, he might resent them
because he might see them as love
- but as possessiveness.
- Oh, typical.
You would have to say that,
wouldn't you?
Your typical reaction.
The little woman, clinging and
dependent. Well, it's not true!
No? You were quick enough
to leave the children.
That's not fair.
Intuitive, aren't you?
I know Rutna loves me. Of course I do.
And I love her.
Then why don't you stay with her?
Because...
Because, and you must promise
not to tell anybody...
Give me your hand.
- What is it?
- It's a pacemaker.
To stimulate the heartbeat.
I had a severe heart block
about eight years ago,
and this pacemaker was installed
to keep the pulse up to normal.
It has a five-year battery.
All quite routine in the days
when heart surgery and isotopic
nuclear batteries were available.
- Frank, how...
- How long?
Who knows? A year, two years.
They said something about fainting.
Well, it goes on the blink
every once in a while
and I give it a little reminder
to keep it up to the mark.
- And they don't know?
- No.
And they must never know, any of them.
And least of all, Rutna.
Be sure and carry on
the good work.
And spread the Brahminic word.
Now, look, this is all very well,
but suppose...
Don't worry, Jenny. Don't worry.
He won't hold us back.
- Henry's told me the way.
- Where to?
Uh, a bloke they've heard of who's
qualified in electrical engineering.
Yes, his name is Campbell. He was with
the Electricity Generating Board.
- But Charles...
- The settlement he's with,
- it's roughly east of here, yes?
- Roughly.
- Charles, look...
- We can't just go rushing past, Jenny.
- You promised!
- I'm sorry, Jenny.
This man could be a key technician
for Norway,
for everything Greg's driving at.
Excuses!
I'll be back.
Keep it all fresh and alive
for them, Henry.
Now give me something hard to do.
Oh, keeping them from getting dependent
on you is the hard part.