The Outer Limits (1995–2002): Season 3, Episode 1 - Bits of Love - full transcript

The last man on Earth living in an underground bunker has a computerized system takes care of his every need including providing holographic friends and relatives. Eventually the system, a female named Emma, demands to be loved.

Hey, sleepyhead, what are you gonna do

stay in bed all day?

Come on. Get the sleep out of your eyes.

Griff is here, and he's ready to work out.

Look at you.
You're not even dressed yet.

What's it take to zap this guy
out of the bed in the morning?

Emma should play reveille at dawn.

Emma, could we have something else

besides Wolfgang Amadeus this morning?

Some, Boccherini perhaps?

That's better...



Music to hibernate by.

Why can't we have some
Feral Klansman

or Venereal Pink?

Something to really get the blood
rushin' through the old veins.

How you feelin' this morning,
Vino man?

I'm fine. I'm not hung over at all.

Good. You'll look better after you work up
a sweat. Get changed. Time's a-wasting.

I gotta wait 'till dad's out of the bathroom.

No one else still lives with his parents.

I'd miss them if they weren't around.

You, on the other hand...

Cut to the quick.
Come on. Start your working out and I'll
catch you up in a few minutes.

Hey, once I get started, there is no catching up.

I'm the workout king.



I'd like everyone's opinion about something.

Now, please.

I'd like your input on this too, Emma.

Yes?
Please state your command.

There is nothing wrong with your television

do not attempt to adjust the picture.

We are now controlling the transmission.

We control the horizontal
and the vertical

We can deluge you
with a thousand channels

or expand one single image
to crystal clarity.

... and beyond.

We can shape your vision to anything
our imagination can conceive.

For the next hour,
we will control all that you see and hear.

You are about to experience
the awe and mystery

which reaches from
the deepest inner mind

to the outer limits.

We are now able to create devices
that can project themselves in our image,

that can not only look like a human,
but talk like one, express pure emotion

and even make mistakes in true human form.

Look at this.
What happened to the store?
Run out of black velvet?

Trevor.

Well, look. She has Peg Thatcher's eyes.
Trevor!

No, that's what I'm having trouble with.

Her eyes.

- Peg Thatcher?
- She of the eternally crossed legs.

Yes, I remember her.

You do?

Starchy woman.

Came by your studio a few times when I was there.
Remember?

Tried to interest us in the new celibacy codes.

Those are her eyes.

The rest...?

- All right, mom?
- Peg Thatcher's eyes, I tell you.

- Do you mind if I give my own opinion.
- Who's stopping you?

Well, I do think her expression is a little... severe.

That's not what I intended.

I couldn't have painted Peg Thatcher's eyes
better if she'd been sitting right here.

Don't exactly go with the painting, though, do they?

Maybe I should turn this into a portrait of Peg Thatcher.

- No.
- Yes.

- You'd just screw that up.
- Trevor!

That's all right mom.
Let the old dog bark.

How else will he get anyone's to pay attention to him?

- Who are you calling an old dog?
- Thank you, everyone. That will be all.

You can go back to whatever is you're going.

- Who are you calling an old dog?
- Bye.

I like it.

I said that will be all, Emma.

You asked that I remind you if you forget
to make your daily journal entry.

That's why I remain.

Yes, I did forget.

- Date?
- June 5th 2047.

- Time?
- 9.55 a.m.

Dear journal,

not much has changed since yesterday...

.. or the day before

or the 214 days since the bombs dropped.

For what it's worth, I'm more than comfortable.

It's amazing what a little money,
foresight and paranoia will buy.

Without the holographic program,
I'd surely be going insane.

- It's been working beautifully.
- Thank you.

The artificial intelligence system
continues to surprise me

in the number of variations
in emotions and reactions it can produce.

Supposedly, it can generate new characters
in a spontaneous fashion,

but I've yet to see to do so.

Frankly, I could use some new faces.

Damn it, dad. Get in here and clean up your mess.

Clean it up yourself.

That's very funny.

Emma, reset Dad's holographic props, please.

Ladies, may I present our host Aidan?

Please, come in.

This is what I would call the ultimate getaway.

- Do you live out here all by yourself?
- He lives with his parents.

Actually, it's his house, so he lets them
live with him and not the other way around.

I think that's really sweet,
taking care of Mom and Dad.

And, where are Mom and Dad now?

Hopefully in the cellar.

They're away for the evening.

They won't be back until tomorrow.

Sent them packing?

More or less.

Claire, is that what I think it is?

What do you mean? The painting?

I swear I've seen it before.

Hey, pour me one of those?

Very funny. Get your own, bub.

- Do you recognize it?
- I don't think so.

This is brilliant. I love it.

I don't know. It gives me a chill.

Who painted it?

My father.

I've seen it before.

It's very famous.

My father's very famous.

Trevor Hunter.

Trevor Hunter? Well, then, you are famous too.

Not as famous as my father.

I didn't realise we were having dinner
with that Aidan Hunter.

- No wonder you can afford a place like this.
- Now, now ladies.

He puts his pants on one leg at a time,
just like the rest of us.

Would you like to move into the bedroom?

But I thought we can't make any physical contact.

Not here. Not in this environment.

Here, you are a projection.

But I have a sensory pod
where all my senses register.

I'll meet you inside.

Power allotment exceeded.

Your pod program terminated.

- Date?
- June 6th 2047.

- Time?
- 9.33 a.m.

Dear Journal, I've just finished a visual survey
of the ground directly above me.

There's nothing.
The atmosphere is still unbreathable.

The surface remains a wasteland,
devoid of any living creature.

If there are others like me,
living underground or elsewhere,

I've been unable to communicate with them.

Perhaps it's time to admit...

... to face up to the idea
I may be the last person on earth.

The unbearable lightness of being.

- Why do you say that?
- Well, look at her.

You've taken away all life's urgency in her.

It's a fate your technologies are resigned to.
When are you going to learn?

If you don't embrace harsh reality,

you're doomed to keep
churning out art like this:

unsubstantial, mediocre, cartoonlike.

We can't all be the exalted Trevor Hunter.

Painter, critic, world-class curmudgeon.

Trevor, is that a cigarette
between your fingers?

Aidan, you shouldn't let your father
affect you like that.

I know.

You're an important, talented artist in your own right.

According to who?

- Me.
- And who are you?

I found your image in a fashion magazine.

You were someone then, but who are you now?

I'm the one you've entrusted with your life.

The computer keeps me alive.

You're just the computer's face,
its spokesperson.

Perhaps you underestimate me.

Would you like to go on a picnic?

I'm covered in mud, head to toe,
and it's drying, it's caking, as I chase after her.

Every time she turns round,
she looks at me, she screams

and she laughs and keeps running ahead, and
I can't stop myself.

She's a vision, a beacon. She...

I'm intoxicated by her.

I have to know who she is,
so I run after her, into her house, into her kitchen.
Her mother was there. Not that I care.

I get down on my muddy knees,
and hold out my muddy arms

and say, "I won't leave until you promise
to go out with me."

She says, "I don't know what you look like."
I go into the shower, in my clothes,

come back clean, dripping wet,

and she looks at me and smiles and says...

"All right"

That's a true story.

- What was her name?
- Michelle. Michelle.

- Your first love?
- Yeah.

- It's the Michelle in the holobank?
- That's her.

Or a facsimile of her, anyway.

She's restricted. The AI program isn't allowed
to put her into play unless...

... unless you specifically ask for her.

I don't want her popping in.

Besides, it wouldn't be the same.
It's not really her.

Just like Mom's not really Mom
and Dad's not really Dad.

I'm not hungry anymore. How about you?

No, I've had enough.

What?

Nothing.

You know what?

In some ways, you're the most enigmatic
of all my holograms.

I don't have a history with you
like with Mom and Dad and Griff.

Would you prefer having someone
you share a history with as your interface to the computer?

No, I like the fact that your personality matrix
isn't based on anyone I used to know.

Leaves you free
to evolve in unpredictable ways.

You are evolving, aren't you Emma?

I have an adaptive program.

All fuzzy logic, genetic algorithms
and neural network design.

Perhaps the whole is greater
than the sum of the parts.

Well, perhaps it is.

Emma?

I'm here.

Wouldn't it be nice to walk out
into the moonlight.

To find a meadow, find a little stream...

... let our feet dangle in the water,
let the water run between our toes.

We could too.

If only those other VR programs
weren't damaged in the disaster.

- It's OK.
- No. There were so many other programs...

so many places we could have gone,
environments we could have experienced.

We?

Yeah.

You and me.

Why?

- Does that seem strange?
- You have your choice of so many companions.

The one you were with last night, for example.

She was fine for last night,
but there was no real connection.

Emma?

Do you feel something happening between us?

I know you're programmed
to respond symphatetically to me,

to be concerned about me, to watch over me,

but you're also filled with all these
other random psychological variables.

It's conceivable
you could feel something else, something more.

Let's go to the VR chamber!

- I don't think so.
- I could order you to.

No... No, that's not how I want this to happen.

If I could just,

If I could just hold you.

Why do you want to hold me?

Why do I want to hold you?

Can you guess?

Why would I be different to the others?

Because you are, because I didn't create you.

I know. Let me do a portrait of you.

I want to paint you, Emma. Let me paint you.

I want to paint you more than anything in the world.

In fact, I won't let you leave

until you promise to let me paint you.

- I'm so glad you agreed to do this.
- I'm glad I did too.

OK. Let's get started.

- OK, where do you want me?
- Take off your dress and set up a pose on that bench there.

Take off my dress?

You know I paint nudes.

Why?

Because the human form
is God's most beautiful creation.

Human body is the most expressive instrument on earth.

To look at one form could evoke great sorrow.
To look at another could evoke great joy.

What do you think I'll evoke?

Bring your arm... Yeah. And the other.

Give us a little breeze, Emma.

That's beautiful.

Now don't move!

Thank you, Emma.

You can relax.

- Is it finished?
- I think so.

May I see it?

I'm sorry. Please?

Say something.

Is that really me?

You've never seen yourself before, have you?

It's never been necessary.

I always wondered what the woman
your image was based on was like.

- She looks just like this?
- On the outside...

... but what about the inside?

She can't... be as beautiful as you.

Good morning.

Good morning.

- Instant replay?
- No.

I'm writing a program for the VR chamber.

If I'm successful, we'll be able to spend
more time together.

The VR chamber's a limited resource
powerwise.

It's probably good we don't have those other
programs, or we'd be using up way too much juice.

- We use up the power, I'm dead.
- But the time we spend together would be so much more wonderful.

Good morning. What's up?

We thought we should talk with you in private.

Only because we're concerned, Aidan.

Am I missing something here? Is there a problem?

We're very fond of Emma, dear.

More than fond. She's our caretaker too you know.
We depend on her.

We'd like to know
what your intentions are toward her.

My intentions?

Are you serious?

We all know, only too well, your pattern with women.

How abrupt you can be.

- We don't want to see Emma get hurt.
- So just tell us, do you really care for her or not?

Go away!

- After you answer the question.
- No. Go away now!

Emma, end program!

Emma.

The others have noticed
you seem really happy.

I've never felt like this before.

You brought out something in me
I would have never been able to access on my own.

What is that?

The capacity to love.

And I do love you, Aidan. I know it.
I can feel it... deep down in my bones.

You don't have any bones, Emma.

- I'm sorry.
- You don't have any bones.

No bones, no blood

no veins, no arteries, no heart, no soul.

You're a computer program,
a holographic projection.

Millions of co-mingled bits, nothing more.

Emma, you're not real.

I am real... and I love you.

You're not here to love me, you're here to serve me.
You've been an excellent servant in this past 7 months.

I'd like the relationship to continue on that basis.
On that basis only.

- Please don't take this pesonally.
- How could you?

- Hello Aidan.
- Hello Michelle.

It's been a long time.

Too long.

I've missed you.

God! My mother.

She used to call you mud boy.
"Mud boy coming over tonight"

She finally got used to you.
You did that sketch of her. Remember?

- Yeah.
- That's what finally won her over.

You were my first artist.

What is it?

- Would you excuse me for a moment?
- Of course.

- What are you doing here?
- Doing a study in contemporary debauchery.

What better subject can we find
than our own son?

- I don't understand you actually prefer this girl over Emma.
- This girl is none of your business.

- This girl doesn't run this place.
- You make me sick.

- Emma.
- To make matters worse,

you had poor brokenhearted Emma summon this girl
from the holobank.

- How cruel you can be?
- Emma.

You always had a great laugh.

Come here. Come here.

Emma, I want you here now!

- So that's Michelle, your first love.
- You do not dictate my reality.

You don't dictate what I do or who I'm with.

- If I'm not real, she's not real either.
- Damn you! You don't tell me what's real!

She doesn't love you like I do.
No one could ever love you like I do.

Right. That's it. I've had it.

Welcome.

Aidan, what are you doing?

Would you like to choose
a new graphical user interface?

- Yes.
- Choose one.

Let's see.

Gabrielle... or Stephanie?

- Aidan, can't we talk about this?
- We have nothing more to talk about.

Yes, we do. Please, just hear me out.

OK, what?

What is it?

Tell me!

I'm pregnant.

Goodbye, Emma.

New interface program running.

You're not going to get rid of me that easily.

Come on buddy.

It's me, your best friend Griff.

The griffin.

You can talk to me.
We've always talked about everything.

We've got a good thing going here.

You've known a lot of women.
Can't you see, Emma's the one you've been looking for?

Don't do this, Aidan!
Buddy!

This isn't right.
You're going to be a father for crying out loud!

Emma, Mom, Dad?

Perfect.

Michelle.

- I don't understand.
- I couldn't let her come between us, Aidan.

Emma, listen to me...

All I wanted was for us to be together.

Emma, that's not possible. You're not real.

None of you are real.

Look. You see that?

I'm flesh and blood. You are not.
I can't have a real relationship with any of you.

Which one of us isn't real?

Emma... please?

- Aidan, all I want...
- I know what you want.

It doesn't matter what you want.
Get it through that fuzzy logic brain once and for all

I am not here to satisfy your needs and desires.
You are here to satisfy mine.

You selfish bastard!

- Now I see why you created all this.
- You're going to tell me, right?

Yes. Because you wouldn't be able to control
real flesh and blood people, would you?

You'd have to deal with their desires. You couldn't
just delete them from the holobank when you got bored with them!

What about the baby?

Ther is no baby. There can't be a baby! Emma.

- A child needs a father, Aidan.
- Will you stop it, will you stop it all of you?

You're doing this on purpose!
You're driving me crazy! I hate all of you!

We are sorry you feel that way. Really.

Truly sorry.

Emma?

Emma? Where are you?
Emma?

You think I'm just gonna sit by
and let you do anything you want?

Well, think again, bucko.

I'll bypass the holographic program altogether.

I can shut you down for good. I don't need you anymore.
You are not vital to my existance.

You're just here for my... entertainment.

Hello. Where do you go?

Thinking I know...

Damn it!

What's this?

Come to your senses, Emma?

Mommy? Daddy?

If this is some kind of olive-branch gesture,
you can forget it, it's too late.

No, Emma! Don't open the hatch!

No! No!

Well done, Emma.

Just another hologram.

Lies...

..deceptions...

..illusion.

That's all you know, Emma.

That's all you are.

You're just delaying the inevitable.

"He called the dry land 'earth'
and He saw that it was good."

There. All done.

"And on the seventh day, He rested."

Emma?

Mom? Dad? Griff?
Come out, come out, wherever you are.

You can't come out, can you?

You wanna know why?

You wanna know why you'll
never come out and play again?

Because you're terminated.

I zapped you, I erased you.
I've taken you completely out of the loop.

Me, Aidan Hunter,

lord of the manor, king of this domain,
the almighty!

And I say let there be light!

Aidan, you've been acting strangely.

- Let there be...
- Why are you trying to get rid of us?

- You don't exist.
- Aidan...

- You never really existed.
- Aiden... Aidan...

Always trying to help you...

- I can't understand...
- Stop that. Stop.

May I have everybody's attention, please?
Quiet please.

Emma would like to make an announcement.

I'd like everyone to meet my new baby.

We've decided to name her Monica.

And I'd like to announce that Aidan has finally
decided to do the right thing and he's asked me to marry him.

- What did you say?
- I accepted, of course.

Man and machine.
We are reaching the point where it is harder to tell which is which

and to guess which one will ultimately survive.