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Last updated 2-jul;23-jun;9-may;30-apr;30,4-mar-2001
Series created by Gavin Scott. Screenplay by Gregory de la Doucette. Prod des Normand Sarrazin. Ed by Yvann Thibaudeau. Music by Nick Glennie-Smith. Dir phot Yves Be'langer. Vis fx prod John Poisson, William Kendall. Vis fx des Yanick Dusseault, vis fx supv Dean Lewis. 2nd unit dir Pierre de Lespinois. Co-prod Richard Lalonde. Co-execp David Forrest. Execps Nicolas Clermont, Pierre de Lespinois.
Moli-Flex White/Studio Concept/etc. Talisman Crest/Filmline. Quebec/Canada. Carried on the Sci-Fi Channel. Rated PG-V.
"It is like a blind man, in a dark room, looking for a black cat, that isn't there!" --Passportout
By Gavin Scott
Fogg gets Verne invited to the Emperor's ball, where he rudely rebuffs a representative of the Confederate States of America, insults the socially irresponsible fops, praises Hugo's _Les Miserables_ (banned in France), but gets along well with the Countess Helen Donjue. At a church in the country (built by the Count Gregory in the 16th cen), a statue falls and reveals a gargoyle statuette. The priest brings it to Paris to be appraised, and is murdered. Verne (goes off on his own) follows the clues to a tomb in a meadow beneath a castle above the church, where the statuette opens the tomb, stairs. Finds the Countess in uniform aboard a huge flying machine, she announces she'd found the treasure of Alric the Visigoth (looted from Rome), used to build machine, plan to bring peace wherever- starting with America. Lt.Verne. The Aurora rendezvous and she permits Phineas and Rebecca aboard. Electric torch. Rebecca confronts Verne with the cases of rifles and slaving manacles, while Phineas finds the resurrected Count Gregory cyborg-cadavar. League of Darkness. Nit: "the League of Darkness now has the only two heavier-than-air flying machines in existence". Donjue tosses Rebecca out the hatch, Verne catches, and he drops them onto the Aurora's gasbag, passing below. 14 guns (5 each side, 2 for and aft, can fire up, across, down). "civilized way of life against money-grubbing northern industrialists"
On a dark night, a man (JH) skulks through an alley, apprehensive; his face is covered in swirling geometric tattoos. Nearby, a shadow creeps down a wall, across the cobblestones, then extrudes into a man clad in black cloak and wide-brimmed hat (V). He raises his hands to the sky and howls; clouds gather, and the tattooed patterns on his palms glow orange.
While PHILEAS FOGG (PF) is taking breakfast, his manservant PASSPORTOUT (PP) brings him a package that has just arrived. PF doesn't know of anyone living in Bucharest, Romania, but he recognizes the handwriting of the address. There's no letter. He unwraps a box, and from it pulls a black glove adorned with symbols and a hexagram. He gets the impression it's very old, but will examine it more closely later. After he leaves, the patterns glow orange.
Later, he has a sudden inspiration and sees his friend JAMES O'NEALAND (JO) at the British Museum. He sketches the glove (he's surprised by the detail he can recall, and wishes he did as well at cards) and asks about the symbols. The astounded JO identifies it as late middle ages kabbala. These mystics (he explains) believed certain symbols or ciphers were not just *representations* of god, but god himself; and by writing them god became present. Hence they contained all knowledge, past present and future, if you could frame the question in god's secret signs. PF is impressed. "An infinitely more mysterious man resides within this distinguished academic, James," he says. When he asks, PF tells JO doesn't know who sent it, but confesses about the handwriting and Bucharest. JO is almost unseemly in his desire to see the glove, and PF makes an appointment for tomorrow at 10:00, then leaves.
Fogg's cousin REBECCA FOGG (RF) arrives at PF's house to examine the glove. She prepares to don it, but PP cautions her not to. He's seen something like it once before, when working as a sergeant-fireman in Paris. There was a very old man he rescued from a fire, clutching a big heavy book that meant more to him than his life; these symbols were on its cover. He never found out who the man was. Suddenly, some papers leap off PF's desk. PP scurries over to corral them, chastising his master for always leaving the window open; but RF points out that it *isn't*. Unnoticed, the glove glows again.
In Paris, JULES VERNE (JV) takes leave of his friends after an evening of carousing. Wind scatters leaves across the cobblestones and, ill at ease, he pauses and looks around. He's sudenly pulled off the street and muffled by a cloak; it's the tattooed man JH, who first confirms that this is JV, friend of PF; he must talk. When JV asks for a name, the man can't seem to pronounce it; then insists they get off the streets. A carriage passes, carrying the dark man. JV brings him to his apartment and assures him they'll be safe: his landlady, Madam Ludek, "has eyes like a bat and a tongue like a knife." The man requests that he turn down the lamp. "Why do you hide from the light?" JV asks, and JH throws back his hood and opens his tunic: his head, chest and heads and totally covered with the symbols and patterns. "Who did this to you?" JV asks. "Even knowing the rank nature of this world, it is impossible to give a name to such--" and his markings suddenly glow.
In London, PF is disturbed in his sleep. He gets up and pulls a revolver from the bedside table. In a dressing gown over his nightshirt, he investigates his study, finds some items disturbed, but no intruder. He relaxes, puts down the gun, reaches for a lamp -- and is hit by a leaping figure uttering a distinctly feminine war cry. He grabs the gun, turns -- is hit again, falls. PP rushes in, and the figure barges out the door past him. "What did he want, this, this thief?" he stutters. As answer, PF pulls the glove from a false book. "And the *he*, Passportout, was a she."
In Paris, JH the tatooed man explains his relation to PF. They grew up in the same village, inseparable, until his father took a position in India, and their correspondence gradually dropped off. He becomes agitated and declares that PF is in danger, because of him. He must be warned, but the post (as JV suggests) is too slow; mysteriously, he asks if JV has something owned by PF, that had touched his flesh. JV hands over a loaned pocket watch, which the man grasps to his forehead, shuddering. JV witnesses, apprehensive, as the room's contents begin to shake.
JH makes psychic contact. "You," PF says. "It was your writing. You sent the glove." He was delirious with fear (JH confesses) and sent it to the only one he could trust. He feared losing it, having it taken, but now realizes its dark influence mustn't be allowed to spread. "Faust tried to use the devil to get to heaven; so did I". He urges PF to destroy it.
In London PP wakes PF from a trance, and in Paris the spell is broken. JH won't come with JV to London. "I can feel them near, and I want no more lives on my conscience." He leaves.
PF tells PP he now knows who sent it, and PP entreats he throw the glove on the fire. PF wonders about the warning of Faust and the devil.
In a Parisian alley, JH meets the dark man V, who demands the whereabouts of the glove. He boasts that it's gone where he'll never find it, flees, but encounters V again. "Who has it? Show him to me!" He grasps JH's forehead, concentrates, sees PF. "Who is he?" Concentrates further, sees the conversation with JV. "You're too late," JH says triumphantly. "No. No!" roars V, and mystically incinerates JH. He turns and departs the small pile of ash.
In London, PF sheds a tear.
At the museum the next morning, JO is repulsed at the proposal to destroy the glove; but PF, oddly cool, says he hasn't quite decided. PF didn't bring it: "Oh, it's quite safe... Where thieves cannot find it." Only PF and JO knew of its existence, but JO dismisses the idea that he'd steal it; why the rush? PF switches the topic to the man who sent it: an old friend, who appeared in a dream with the warning: JOACHIM HYDE (JH). JO shows immediate recognition of the name. He knows of him; people talk. "The last person to see him said he was almost a ghost, having barely any substance."
On the train en route to London, JV is unaccountably nervous. He turns and sees the dark man [probably for the first time] several rows back, and quickly averts his gaze.
JO reports to an elderly Chinese man (XAI CHOW, XC) in an ornate audience chamber, while a young woman (LI XAN, LX) watches from behind a screen wall. He asks why XC tried to steal the glove, when he would've brought it this morning. "You dare question me?" XC thunders. "What makes sense in this world? Chaos shapes our destiny. Where is the glove now?" He orders it found, and threatens JO with a fan of white feathers; he explains that, in China, white is the color of death and mourning. JO bows and leaves, but XC stops him. He confirms that this PF is "an extraordinary man, of intellect, of passion, who values people above things." "I don't quite see how--" says a confused JO, but XC cuts him off with curt wave of the fan.
On the train, JV jumps when an image of the dark man appears in the window. He looks, and he's no longer in the car.
In London, RF witnesses an impromptu Chinese street festival featuring two traditional multi-person lion costumes. "The lion chases away evil spirits," explains LX, the girl from XC's room. She proffers a long-stemmed rose. "Good heavens," exclaims RF, "it's blue!" "Chinese rose, bring you good fortune," says the girl, and jabs it at RF, drawing blood from the back of her hand. RF is merely annoyed, then passes out.
RF awakes on a bed in a Chinese-furnished room, clad in a grey Chinese-style tunic. The mandarin XC greets her: "Sometimes life seems like a dream reflected in a mirror." She gets a name, asks where she is, and gets an evasive answer. "Suitably inscrutable, but it was less a philosophical inquiry, more geographical." It's the moon room. Tea is brought by a matronly woman in a yellow robe. RF struggles up, asks why she was abducted; PF "has something I want: the black glove of Melchizedek." [And now it has a name.] RF catches on: "and now *you* have something that *he* wants..." He raises a hand, revealing a metal talon-glove on one finger. RF throws her tea in his face, dashes out of the room, and encounters the young lady LX, who quickly uses her oriental arts to knock RF to the floor, foot at her neck. She surrenders. "Might I have another cup of tea?"
Back in bed, RF shudders as though in the throes of an illness. LX enters, draws a dagger, gestures for her to be quiet, and without explanation, cuts off a lock of hair.
JV has arrived at PF's house, and explains the "psychic connection" JH had used (he attended a lecture in Paris last year). It requires an object connected to the target. He shows PF the watch, which is now runnign backwards.
In his office, JO is surprised when the doors slam open and a spectral Chinese dragon enters. Fire rushes into his mouth, and he collapses. The dragon evaporates to reveal XC, who tells the victim, "Fear is in the blood, fear is in the soul." He opens a large book on the desk, and finds PF's drawing of the glove.
PP brings a newly-delivered letter to PF and JV. It contains the lock of RF's hair, and instructions to meet (at 206 Bethmal Green Road). They're shocked by the audacity of the abduction. PF sniffs the paper: cilantro, oregano and saffron; it smells of the east.
PP answers an arrogant knock at the door; it's the dark man. "Do you have appointment?" the manservant asks. "Devil choke your appointment," scowls V and barges in. He enters the study, tosses aside his hat, and addresses PF without preamble: "You have something of mine, stolen from me. Give to me and I'll be gone." PF is unflustered, and gets the man's name: VARGAS (V). (JV whispers that it's the man from the train.) He names the item as the black glove of Melchizedek, "the high priest... the most high of Salem... one of God's great chosen and a necromancer." "Oh, *that* Melchizedek," says PF. "You have proof of ownership? A bill of sale?" V names JH the thief. "That cur, Joachim Hyde, was my oldest and closest friend," says PF coldly. "I say 'was' because I have this unshakeable feeling he is dead. *Is* he dead, Vargas?" V agrees. "A pile of dust, blown by the wind -- like he shall be!" and he thrusts a hand toward PP's face, immobilizing him. He requests the glove again, psychically drawing the image of its location from PP. PF concedes, pulls the book from the shelf -- and removes a gun from it. "Release him!" he orders. V lowers his hand -- and tosses PP across the room. "Give me the glove, or soon your souls will be dissolved in the elements!" he threatens. PF fires, and time slows down. V sinks into shadow-form beneath the creeping bullet, slides across the floor, and engulfs PF.
PF inds himself in a black void, mirror images around him. He catches sight of V, fires, and the mirror shatters. He recalls JH's entreaty to destroy the glove. He sees V again, fires again, cracking the mirror -- and V notices blood on his fingertips. PF fires repeatedly, and the image shatters and falls. Alone, PF looks around the now-empty void.
PP and JV find PF on the doorstep, passed out. "What happened?" they ask. "A maze of mirrors... Vargas forgot he was mortal." They help him up (PP dusts leaves off PF's jacket) and return to the study, where PF pulls a second false book with identical cover, *this* one containing the glove. "Like changing trains, I changed books. I don't know why; intuition." He asks for the ransom letter while JV examines the glove, and offhandedly explains the kabbalistic connection made by JO -- who (he continues) was found dead in the museum this morning, apparently of fright. JV urges PF not to go alone; PP says they'll hide, "like tears in the rain."
At XS's lair, RF asks LX if she really obeys her master without question. "It is my duty," she answers, as XS enters happily. "When I have this glove, there will be no limit to my power."
Two Chinese aides lead PF into a warehouse stacked high with crates. They frisk him, remove his revolver. He sits down. "I do hope this isn't going to take too long," he says irritably. "I'm expected at my club." One of the aides scolds him in Chinese, and PF casually identifies the dialect. LX appears, and confirms his guess. "Do you speak our language?" she asks, and he utters some phrases. "We've met before," he says. "Have we?" she riddles, just as XS (in full blue-and-gold mandarin garb and hat) is carried in on a litter. XS concedes to his adamant demand to see RF.
(Meanwhile, JV and PP observe from an upper level, behind a wall of crates. Smelling gunpowder, they find firecrackers within, and hatch a plan.)
RF is brought in, still wearing the grey tunic. "I say, that's rather fetching," compliments PF. "It's the latest thing, don't you know?" she answers, imperturbable. "One does try to keep up with the fashion." Impatient with the banter, XS again demands the glove. Then the fireworks are tossed down as a diversion, and a fight breaks out.
RF vs. LX, oriental martial arts vs. British unarmed combat. PP dives in, while JV tosses the occasional firecracker. PP grabs one pair of nunchaku from a henchman, and uses them to entwist-grab the other. The second henchman threatens PF with a series of intimidating martial poses; PF pulls a derringer from his sleeve and shoots him. "I learned that in Indiana." PP threatens XS with the two nunchaku, and gets grabbed in the crotch. LX kicks the glove across the floor to XS, who dons it. Bales fall. XS fires a magical blue burst at PF, then gets shot -- RF has found the confiscated gun. Energy sparks across the glove, and XS rises into the air, lightning discharging to the nearby crates. He spins, then explodes; then the explosion implodes, leaving only a pile of dust. LX kneels by it, sobbing, and prays. PF turns to RF. "I'd save your sympathy, Rebecca. She and her master did not intend for us to leave here alive." JV descends from the upper level, and LX flees; he helps PP up. "Well, time for us to go, I think," says PF jauntily.
In the warehouse, JV looks at XS's remains: "Well, dust to dust." PP ouch-grunts assent. "Yes, and ashes to ashes, it would seem..." says PF. "At least Xai Chow will do no more harm. Come along." They leave. The dust blows away. The four of them walk abreast on a dark street, their shadows leading them. Behind them, a fifth shadow, unowned, follows.
Abstract: The Prussians kill a spy who stole battleplans for an invasion, but not before he notifies Rebecca. And look, there's a lanky glowing ghost in the old church! But where are they? The Prussians force them into the church, then prepare to blow it up. Wait, the ghost is actually an alien! "It's at times like this that I really wish I had a gun," says Fogg as it advances upon them. "Wait! Maybe it's not hostile," suggests Verne -- and then it waves a big axe. But the axe is a key. Before climbing into its ship (buried in the wall), the alien gives Verne a disk of we-know-not-what.
On a stormy night, a bearded man (COUNT NICOLAI KUGARIN) kneels shirtless before a Russian Orthodox altar, striking himself with a flail; a self-flagellant. A priest enters and forgives him for a sin he has not yet committed, then blesses his enterprise. Four men in strange armor enter.
The airship _Aurora_ is on its way to ----, Russia, for two reasons. First, REBECCA FOGG has been dispatched by the British Secret Service to investigate the shipment of large numbers of parabolic mirrors. They have any number of uses, including signalling troops. Second, her cousin PHILEAS FOGG, wealthy owner of the _Aurora_, is seeing his friend Count Kugarin for the latest in a series of wagers.
Fogg is attempting to train his friend JULES VERNE, writer and futurist, in fencing techniques, but Verne just can't accept the counterintuitive notion of fooling the opponent by dropping his guard, by risking everything. Meanwhile, Fogg's French manservant, PASSPORTOUT, has clamped a strange metal device to Fogg's trouser leg. After several minutes he asks irritably about it; the valet calls it "Passportout's Patent Portable Presser". "It is burning my leg," his master points out. PP is prepared; he tosses a bucket of water over the smoking garment.
RF dons a parachute and steps outside the cabin, preparing to leap into the countryside. She chides her cousin; nine years, haven't these absurd wagers gone on long enough? It's only every three years, he replies. She dives away. Still, he's never quite gotten over the way KG owns 600 serfs.
The _Aurora_ lands at the estate, and KG welcomes PF with a kiss on each cheek. They reminisce about their last meeting: racing steamboats down the Thames blindfolded. He introduces his attractive niece and ward, NATASHA, and RF presents JV, who stands their awkwardly. "Verne, as you may have guessed from his lack of manners, is an artist." Natasha thinks that Paris must be wonderful. If you have money; not if you're starving in a garret, he replies. "How romantic!" she gushes. "Romantic -- and uncomfortable." Her face falls; it's better than her uncle's estate, which stifles like a prison.
Out in the countryside, RF spies with compact binoculars a Russian soldier affixing a mirror to a limbless tree trunk. She checks a compass: it's pointed north-north-east.
Inside the estate, RF notes the missing paintings. He got tired of them, KG says breezily, and has N show JV to his room. On the staircase, JV stops by a religious painting, and comments on the wonderful colors of these Russian icons. N introduces it as SAINT BASIL THE BLIND, their local saint -- and of course he'd know colors, being a painter. He corrects his misapprehension -- he's a writer. She gets an odd look, asks him to do something very personal, and runs off to get something.
In the parlor, KG jokes to PF, "Artists!... For one awful moment I thought he was a writer." PF prudently doesn't correct him, as KG goes on with his opinion that writers and intellectuals have corrupted the Tsar, swaying him from traditional values. Well, onto the games. He sits, and PF blindfolds him, and pulls out his watch. KG flips the pages of a book until told to stop. They examine the page upon he'd lighted -- aha, the newest sport in the world.
N shows JV a folder of handwritten pages; she wants to know if she should "sacrifice her life to literature". She's written this story in secret: "it has taken me two years; two years of fear." Her uncle hates writers, and if he knew, he'd send her to the convent -- "a living death."
Downstairs, a uniformed man (PRINCE) reports to KG that the chain is complete, the system tested -- and it works. "Now, even the speed of light is on our side."
In the kitchen, PP compliments the cook, ILLILIYA, and says she should be working in a great Paris restaurant. But KG would never let his serfs go travelling, she tells him resignedly; the only way to get off the land is to be taken to God. Or to Siberia, adds SERGEI. She hushes him; KG hasn't done that to anyone, for nearly a year!
JV reads the pages.
The servants plant croquet wickets in the garden. KG hands PF a mallet, "carved by my serfs within the last hour. Would this be possible in the West?" he asks, superior. "No, one would just send one's valet to the shop." He tells his friend that he's never gotten over the fact that he literally owns 600 people. He merely owns the *land*, KG replies, and is to the land that the serfs are tied. They begin the wagers at 5000 pounds.
In the countryside, a man on horseback gallops at RF, drawing a sword. She sidesteps and pulls him to the ground. Oof! She stuffs the saber in her belt and takes the steed.
Out a window, JV sees N running across the yard. He calls, and follows her into the woods. Coming across a second icon of St.Basil in a small wooden enclosure, he notes that its eyes are open. He presses them -- and a door opens. He heads down a series of stairs into a cavern, lit from below by the fires of a forge. He turns a corner, and there, surrounded by swarming workmen, aimed out a narrow opening in the hillside -- a giant metal cannon.
JV is confronted by a guard (in the strange armor) and Prince, who informs him this is a secret. JV demands to know who they are, and what is this weapon? It's not; Count Kugarin and others like him believe Russia should be the first to send a projectile into space; it has cost many millions of rubles, and they will take any measure to protect it; only JV's status as a guest projects *him*. JV is instantly enthusiastic about the "moon gun"; he's dreamed of such a device all his life, and wants to help. N has arrived during the discussion, and she sweet-talks Prince into asking ng. He agrees, easily extracting JV's oath to not speak of the gun to anyone beyond the estate.
Blindfolded, it's PF's turn to flip through the book. His choice: tools of the executioner.
JV points out the gun's elevation is too low -- it should be 60 degrees to achieve orbit. Asking, he learns that it uses 400,000 pounds of fulminated gunpowder (18,000 psi) to launch a 19,000-pound projectile -- escape velocity, he quickly calculates. He asks about the training program for the passenger, and is surprised there isn't one.
Illiliya asks PP about this France place he's been talking about -- does the Tsar rule there? No; there are "oodlings" of lands not under his rule. "Now don't you be taking us for fools," says the cook. "There might be one or two other countries, but not oodlings." Sergei agrees; the Tsar is a great man; "they say he will be setting us free." Illiliya quickly shushes such talk. JV enters, and asks: have you ever thought about space travel?
In the yard, PF beats KG at their game of tossed hatchets. Slightly shaken, KG announces that PF now owns over one-third of the estate -- including 200 men, women and children. PF urges him to stop; and deny me a chance to win back my heritage? retorts ng. He proposes that for the next round, he wagers all he has left in the world, versus all PF's winnings plus what he's brought -- including the _Aurora_ and the balance of PP's contract.
JV examines the passenger projectile, and declares plenty of room for padding and breathing apparatus. N follows him, and he remembers her book. "Your novel made me ground my teeth," he tells her. "I see," she ansers, crestfallen, till he adds, "--with envy." They're real people, with real souls. She's elated.
RF tracks down yet another mirror, at the riverside. She plots its direction with a sextant.
Sergei is now in training. Dressed in a pressure suit, he's being tossed on a trampoline, while gleefully reciting orbital velocity stats. PP congratulates him: "Sergei, you are no longer a serf; you are becoming the world's first lunonaut!"
JV helps Sergei don his breathing gear, then speaks to N; he's convinced science will make the world a better place. "There is so much evil in the hearts of men," she objects sadly. "And so much good," he replies, but she's not convinced, and -- he notices Sergei gasping. Oops, forgot to turn on his air supply.
That night, while PP waits anxiously on the grand staircase, PF and KG play cards in the parlor. KG is losing. "The cards are favoring you," he says, and PF comments on the tendency to personify bits of pasteboard. "Every inanimate object is part of the great soul of the world," says his host. "You Russians and your mystic visions," signs PF, who doesn't notice the manservant behind him, holding a tray with a highly-polished silver wine bucket -- in which KG scrutinizes the reflection of his hand. They present the cards -- and KG wins. PF congratulates him, KG offers his condolences, and will of course arrange his passage back to England.
PF steps out and sees the waiting PP. "So, is it goodbye, master?" He takes the news philosophically. "Is sometimes the way. You have played a game; some games you win, some games you are loosing." "And some, perhaps, you should play at all," adds his former master grimly. JV enters, asks, and has the situation explained. He's incensed -- despite the news that PF consulted PP, who had insisted he carry through on the wager. "How can you go around risking everyhing on a single turn of the card?" JV asks. "That is the point," replies PF, at philosophical loggerheads. "Isn't life enough of a gample, Fogg?" Why does he do it? "I can only assume, Verne," he concludes, coldly, "that it is the result of a deep flaw in my character."
ng speaks to Prince, that all went as planned. "Yes, we have the dirigible. And I have lost my soul." Prince reports a mirror message from St.Petersburg, just before sunset -- the Tsar has been given ng's ultimatum, and will reply at noon tomorrow. KG orders the second projectile packed with explosive; he'll have N keep "the Frenchman" away from the gun cave. He knocks on her door; with no answer, he enters -- and finds her writings. "Natasha? You have betrayed me!"
JV sees the shell being loaded with explosive. "It never was a spaceship, Jules," admits N sadly, and reminds him of the gun's elevation. He feels betrayed; then Prince and two guards arrive, guns drawn. KG follows. "You have corrupted my niece!" he declares, and slaps him across the face. And again -- for giving his serfs ideas above their station. JV is shocked that he's ready to wipe out St.Petersburg just to stop the Tsar's emancipation. Not necessary; the mirrors will instantly relay the news if he tears up the proclamation. Nonetheless, he has JV tied to the mouth of the gun. "It will be a very appropriate death, don't you think, for someone so enthused with technology?" N begs him not to, but he tells her the nuns have been sent for; they will arrive at noon tomorrow.
In the morning, KG sees PF off in a carriage to the train station in Smolensk. There's still no sign of JV? After their altercation, KG claims, he left immediately, alone. "Give my regards to Natasha, and Passportout? You'll treat him well?" Of course. "Goobye, Phineas," bids KG, kissing his glove. "You will always have my deepest admiration."
The coach passes through woods, past serfs harvesting lumber, overseen by a whip-wielding taskmaster. PP looks up from the labor.
RF has given up on her mission, and says so to the horse. "This isn't worth a damn thing, Stark. We are going home." She stops. "Oh lord." Before her, emerging from the tree-covered cliff, is the massive barrel of the gun.
And there's JV, spreadeagled across the six-foot mouth, standing on the lower lip, his wrists manacled above him.
RF sneaks past two armor-guards in the woods.
ng checks on his majordomo GREGOR, who's supervising the mounting of small cannon on the _Aurora_. With it, they can reach St.Petersburg in just a few hours -- critical to do so before the army can rejoin. "Providence has smiled on you, sire," says Gregor. "Providence has nothing to do with it!" yells KG in self-loathing.
In the carriage, PF fiddles with a pack of cards. He thinks back to the game, and remembers the direction of ng's gaze. "I have been cheated," he says grimly, and orders the coachman back.
The gun's oiling meachnism is activated, and lubrication starts flowing from ports around the gun's mouth, trickling over JV's manacles. "You really know how to enjoy yourself, Jules," shouts RF, and mentions PF. "I don't have such a high regard for Mister Phileas Fogg anymore." Nonetheless, she recommends his advice on the need to let go. The oil has slicked his hands, and he manages to slip free of the bonds. He stands on the lip of cannon, staring down. "Ah, shoot," he says, and jumps.
Two black-hooded nuns have come for N. She warns them of her uncle's plan, and wriggles free.
The coach passes the forestry gang again, and PP runs after it. Then N dashes up, panting from exertion.
Gregor reports to KG: the Tsar has rejected the ultimatum. "So, Gregor, the time has run out for the Romanovs." He orders the second projectile loaded -- and gets brained with a shovel by JV. He calls Sergei over.
Moments later, PF confronts ng. "I'm here, Kugarin, to tell you to your face, that you cheat at cards." He stammers, "I did it for Russia." He draws a sword, and tells his friend he's already sacrificed his honor; he won't hesitate to kill an unarmed man. From above, RF tosses a sword to her cousin. RF realizes the full scope of the plan, including the comm relay. "It's all done with mirrors, isn't it?" [referring to both game and plot] RF tosses away an armor-guard who moves to interfere. PF disarms KG, and punches him. "This is for trying to kill Jules Verne; and this is for mistreating my manservant; and this is for cheating Phileas Fogg." He shoves KG, who falls backwards over the railing, into the padded passenger shell. The hatch clangs shut. JV shoves it onto the loading trolley, and it rolls into the breech.
Meanwhile, N and PP have rushed to the control room to prevent Prince from firing the gun. The wrestling continues, and a lever is hit, elevating the cannon. N lunges at a guard, who falls against the firing button -- BOOM! and the gun works perfectly. "How absolutely fantastic," says RF. "Hmm," agrees her cousin.
RF asks what PF's been up to. "Croquet, a few games of cards, nothing really worth discussing." JV comes over, and with a few sentences they reconcile. "Well, that's sorted out then," concludes RF as PP runs up to PF, and JV and N embrace. "You know what this means?" she asks. The Tsar is alive, the serfs are free -- but her uncle? "I suppose he's free too," says Verne. "In a way."
Far above, KG is free of this Earth, free of weight, in freefall. He awakes as his arms float free. He cranks open the iris-shaped window shade, and looks out at the passing darkness, and Earth far below.
Guest Stars Mako, Raoul Trujillo, screenplay Gregory de la Doucette, dir David MacLeod
Airship over ocean, screaming Oriental man KIMIHIRO, stripped to waist, in chair. Man in black uniform. Potion reserved for the most evolved priests. Ordered to prepare; cannot; only one priest can do so. Stared at, he gives name; and can only prepare it for those about to die. Where is he? Leaves as two torturers approach. You mustn't! I'm not prepared to die! My soul!
Tossing darts while he tries to read paper. "Can't you go make yourself a pot of tea or something?" he asks irritably. thwick Or read a book? thwic Or go bullfighting but for god's sack Rebecca could you just give me some peace!" She doesn't know what to do with holidays; doesn't like being idle. Gets up, goes to dartboard: all are clustered in exact center. "I've never really understood the point of this game." PP with telegram: from Whitehall? No Japan. Amaterasu! PP giggles at name, gets look, leaves. You remember her. "Vaguely. Oh god, she's not coming here, is she?" Traveling with grandfather, KAJIMURI. Haven't seen her since she left Oxford. Invited to see them in Paris. Telegram sent a while ago -- arriving tomorrow -- she fishes.
Clipper ship at sunset, Japanese lady. Grandfather in white robe, waving shinto stick. She enters cabin. He asks her: is she now prepared? "I thank Kami for the knowledge they have bestowed upon me, and humbly ask that they bless this preparation." Packet. Last night dreamt of the purifying one; she looks up in shock. He does not fear, nor should she; could go at any time. As next initiate to the family, she will become the preparer: and he's proud she's ready. Finishes the mixture: pale pink, with a blooming swirl of lavendar. Hands it to him (now clear). He sips, then lays back. "I am happy for the pleasure this brings you." "And you, Amatarasu, it is time you have tasted the pleasure of -- a husband." "Grandfather!" she says, shock across her features; then she catches the joke and relaxes.
Night, _Aurora_ in flight, PF still trying to read newspaper. RF thinks he'll enjoy A's company; "I thoroughly enjoyed being her chaperone. I imagine she's become quite a lady -- if she ever got her head out of her books."
Ship, A watches moon, looks at gd sleeping. Opens book.
Airship, K dragged off. Cdr orders course set for Paris.
JV garret, wakes to see RF sitting there. Didn't hae the heart to wake him; been looking at notes. "This is exquisite," "You like it? It's a new, um," "A new genre," she says, rolling the R. It's good to see him again. Asks what brings her to Paris. "Someone I rather think you'll like, another bloody intellectual, a dear friend of mine," she and gd both charming. Invites him to lunch on A.
A (in white kimono) packing. Book falls to carpet, she grimaces. Gd opens. _Passion and myths of western civilization_ he reads. "The world is a very tall tree. Do not hesitate to perch on all its limbs," he tells her, and she hugs him. So excited. Knock, steward (and asst). Asked to present papers: Huh? New French reg. A volunteers for interview. Asst takes bag and leave.
Office, A waiting on bench. Door marked closed. RF arrives: embrace. Steward watches around corner. Customs Control, RF says, is onshore, despite what steward said. Go to cabin: gd gone. Expressions pass across her face. "He has gone." "Gone?" "The purifying one has come for him." "Ah," says RF, bewildered.
Airship passes over building [no one notices?] K manacled to chair. "The potion will be useless to you. It is truth beyond your comprehension," he tells the cdr. It is *power*. K unmoved: in a sit such as this, the sacrifice of one man is not too much. He is prepared. Cdr has no doubt he's passed knowledge on: at that, K frowns. Cdr and other leave him.
RF whispers to PF aboard grounded A. Not in the least concerned when her gd vanishes? She expl: some Jp believe "the purifying one" visits before die, and must pass some sort of test before pass to next world. He's a pries and -- interrupt when A enters (in a flowered kimono). PF asks: think your gd will be visiting after his, um, appointment? "I am not certain, but I am hopeful that he won't." Huh? JV enters, she notices him. RF intro him; he moves forward and trips over something. He forgets to stop shaking her hand.
PP selecting bread. The steward (in white blouse) "I have something hot for your inside" and closes door marked "closed"
On A, wonder where PP is; he'd been very eager to show off his French culinary talents. Politely, A says would rather see Paris than eat it. JV: do you like museums? Exhibit on evolution of steam engines -- and she's fascinated; the advent of modern transportation. RF would love to go -- but (she diplomatically evades) should really stay with PF for PP. A steps out; RF stops him, adjusts collar, and slips some money into his pocket. "No since when has young Jules been able to afford to eat at a bistro?" PF smirks. RF looks smug.
PP beaten up by heavy. Steward adn red-hot crowbar: "something hot, monsieur." Holds up small wrapped package, "Take this to your master,"
JV buys A truffles. "Call me Jules," "Call me -- what you will. It is customary in Japan for -- friends -- to offer each other nicknames." Aimee.
On A, RF continues conv (while tossing darts): don't really believe the Angel of Death visited this old man, and no obligation to look for him. Irritably, it's not AoD, it's TPO: pre-death. (Most darts missed the board entirely.) "You don't really believe any of this? Madness." "MAS-TERRRR!" PP from outside. Rushes in, gasping. RF takes his shoulder. Hands over package. Note: "To Amateratsu, Bring 5000f to the church in the Champs do Venus at midnight and your Grandfather will keep the other nine..." PF shows opened box to PF: eyes open in shock. PP looks, faints. It's a severed finger.
At bistro. Nicest French bistro she's ever been to. Will treasure this day forever. She looks down; thinking of gf. JV: please, let him join us. She tells him not likely, and explains. Had begun, MUSAGI, elevation to the supreme consciousness, purification of the spirit. Years of meditation, and one is absolutely ready -- the potion. With it, can achieve inner truth, then become one with the ultimate truth. God? She thinks. "A truth that is forbidden to mortals." Move closer, stare into each others' eyes.
Night. RF and PF prepping, PF tell PP, when JV returns, not a word of this. PF in her leather outfit and cape.
Riding horses down the cobbles. Steward watches, looks back at A.
JV and A enter, flowers, assaulted by jet of steam, ironing, JV blocks with jacket. PP bows, can't pronounce her name. "I'm sorry, I can't pronounce your name. My Japanese is rusted. And I have lost my basket." JV: everything all right? Nervous. A asks to rest. Leaves. JV to PP: isn't she wonderful?
RF and PF push through crowd of weepers: crowded around MAURICE, pale, blood trickle at corner of mouth. Now ready to take recent events very seriously.
A sneaks downstairs (in peach/pink kimono), sees JV sleeping on couch, PP ironing. Sneaks into washroom.
RF and PF find door. Sneak inside, guns.
She preps something. In main cabin, sudden whistle of steam wakes JV. She pours it into vial. "Very potent, grandfather." Puts it on chain around neck. Examines glass tumbler. Steps out -- steward. Screams. Heavy with cudgel gets PP. Steward explains: employer very anxious to get potion, "but unfortunately, we only need the girl." Raises pistol -- and JV spins knob, hitting him in face with steam jet. In confusion, PP slips free of heavy, whacks across neck. JV takes gun and pistol. "You'll pay for this," he growls, and PP hits him with iron.
Dark space, fallen chairs. Find man, propped . "Amateratsu betrayed Kajiumori. Terrible trouble, terrible trouble. Betrayed," he mutters. Six men enter. "I get the feeling Amateratsu's, uh, not the only one in trouble," as they both raise guns.
PP tie up the two. JV asks: what is this potion? PP steps into washroom, pours himself a glass of water -- a brief flash of lavender. "To someone who is not prepared, I cannot say." He suddenly stops, looks around, stumbles out, gasp-squeaks repeatedly. Grabs stomach. Must leave immediately. Gd kidnapped, pf and rf not in bistro, must go -- more will come. Steward pulls a gun and shots, missing. Dash out.
Flashes of gunfire in hall. Duo prevail, regard bodies, return to man. What the hell is going on, PF wonders? RF asks him: where is Kajimori? He imagines airship. "Big, black, bird," Flashback to torturer: RF touches his face -- closes eyes.
In streets of Paris, must hide A. She shows them the vial of portion. Whinny of horses; he shoves them behind barrels, rushes out. Men on horses drag him up, drop him: where is girl? Struggling with himself, PP points at alley. JV jumps out with pistol. A follows, behind JV. "Are you alright?" he asks PP, who nods. "No." Two more horses, with steward.
RF and PF exit, see airship flying past.
JV follows steward with gun, hit by horse. Steward punches PP, grabs A, ordesr JV brought. PP left on cobbles.
From cover, duo watch horse activity. "Well, it looks like the important word here, is stealth," says RF, pulling two sticks of dynamite.
Earthen cellar, casks. K, Cdr steps forward. "Now we shall discover the truth." JV and A hustled in. "Jules Verne. My lucky day," he smiles. A breaks free, rushes to gd's side. "Do not worry about me. We must both be strong," Cdr pulls her back, threatens her fingers. He throws her to floor. BOOM! Standing by rack of wine barrels, dr waves steward to find out. (Lots of gunfire.) Cdr has the ingredients from their luggage. She refuses to never make the potion. Cdr steps forward with gun. "Stop!" JV. Gd says he will persuade her -- please, no. "Amateratsu, do you believe?" She realizes. (More gunfire, guards flying. Duo hide behind the standard staircase.) "Enough of this!" she works at bonds "One moment longer," "I will miss you grandfather," "Always have faith" She pulls vial, and before Cdr (sipping wine) can react, he downs it. JV breaks free, grabs her, while cdr takes via and drains the rest. "The potion! Wait for me, old man." Light pours like beacons from K's eyes.
Boom! in corridor. "Fifteen-second fuses, right?" she asks, lighting a stick. "No idea," "Well, you set the fuses." "No I didn't -- that was your job." Bang! Steward. They toss both sticks, duck. Pass through, still arguing.
"How long does this take?" asks Cdr, ugh! Sees light in K's eyes. "This potion is useless!" he says. Body rigid, he aims gun, and shoots his own torturer. Aims at JV and A. "You tricked me! Show me the light!" K opens his eyes, steps free of his bonds. Light fills cellar. "Now you shall see the light," Cdr's eyes glow, pours from body. Fires -- and bullet stops before his belly. Screams, evaporates. K and A smile at each other. JV and A watch as he vanishes into glowing portal. Closes. JV takes her hand as she begins to weep. BOOM! Duo enter, PF waves his guns around. "I think we should probably leave. Rather quickly?" suggests RF.
On A at table, PP serving other four, gasping. PF asks. "No, Master, I am definitely not all right. I am in pain and -- eurgh -- I have a very confused mind." "Would you please just stop making that infernal noise," A tells RF, "Mist Jules Verne is the most wonderful man I have ever met." "Urgh -- you must not meet many men," says PP (and gets kicked by RF) "Purple is not your color" he tells her (she looks at him). PF asks him to kitchen, "Why master? You want to leave me behind again?" PF hustles him out, protesting, as RF chuckles. A gets up, goes to rail. Slowly, JV follows; RF stands aside. "Such beauty," he tells her. "If only--" "I know. You have a duty, to your destiny as I have to mine." Will they meet again? "Do you trust me?" "With all my heart" "Then trust me now" Kiss. RF leads PF and PP down the hall. "C'mon," she says. PP lags, pointing -- and gets a hand clapped over his mouth and is dragged aside.
Rick Overton as Count Gregory, with Jonathan Coy, Wayne Best, Ross Petty, Graham Harley. Series created by Gavin Scott. Screenplay by Gregory de la Doucette. Prod des Normand Sarrazin. Ed by Yvann Thibaudeau. Music by Nick Glennie-Smith. Dir phot Yves Be'langer. Vis fx prod John Poisson, William Kendall. Vis fx des Yanick Dusseault, vis fx supv Dean Lewis. 2nd unit dir Pierre de Lespinois. Co-prod Richard Lalonde. Co-execp David Forrest. Execps Nicolas Clermont, Pierre de Lespinois.
Paris
(David Warner) walks through dark alley. Flashes of electric arc and scream from nearby archway, walks to investigate. Enters. Inside, JV head in head rig. "With your help I will soon have all the power I need," Tumblers spin. A gloved hand twists a knob. "Open your mind and show me the future."
Columns of ice blocks, lit from within. RF in leathers, stalks, sword. Meets samurai, parry. Loses her sword, is pushed, his blade slams against ice. Spins wooden staff, twacks him, he cuts it. Punches her, she kicks him in gut. Creeps off. He throws knife, just misses her. Flash of gunfire - from PF. "Very good, dear cousin -- but when did we start using real ammunition?" Comes down stairs; on missions for BSS. She and samurai bow at each other. "These exercises are just a game to you now that you've left the service, aren't they?" "A game of chance, the rules of which I'm perfectly familiar with." If want blanks, change profession. Like you? Excuse from HARRY, who reports SIR BONIFACE, PF's father, is dead.
La Sorbonne, Univ of Paris
Lectures on King Philippe IV. JV inspired to sketch in notebook. blackboard falls, drill tank comes through -- hallucination. Lecturer notices. Blonde across aisle.
Memorial Chapel, London
Mourners after memorial service. QV spks to RF, her guardian. PM tells PF: always a place for him. But already know -- notices man -- could never again be a part of the SS. Shares none of his father's ambitions. PP in crowd. Walks off.
Office of Sir Jonathan Chatsworth
Head of the British Secret Service
Whitehall, London
JC places framed photo, while RF sits. Now head of SS, won't run same manner as her guardian. Her assgnmt: an invention, encrypter gone missing from Royal Academy of Physics, along with inventor, JOHN DICKENS. Photo suddenly falls askew. Asks what it does as he fixes. Could be helpful in decrypting - not natl sec, theft, petty theft, Dickens the most junior of technicians. Traced him to Paris where knows just one man of any conseq, a prof of law at the Sorbonne, DE MORANCY. Gives her incognito, CONSTANCE KNIGHT, law dept's new asst. He straightens it again as she gets up. Offers condolences. Thanks him. Falls off entirely.
Paris, JV in street, huge shadow. Drops notebook.It's the airship.
Walking braced corridor metal, 2 men, carrying white-sheeted tray. Door opens, lights come on. "Do you have it?" One timorous, the one holding it not. Rpt to Count Gregory. It's the encrypter. ASks Mr.Dickens: when pwr src mech prep'd, will be ready for Mr.Verne.
"Feel my presence, Arragault. I was condemned to a living hell, but now I shall have my revenge." Man looks up from table in bistro.
London home of Phileas Fogg
He plays cards with another man and PP. Sound of horse. FB: PF helping him thru snow, chased by 4 horseriders.
A, plans. JV enters his garret, surprised to see him. Asks how the studying: he's tried to stop drawing, to stop writing plays, but can't, hand has a life of its own. Just today designing in class, the drill tank tunneller. Reassures him it *was* real. Possess a rare gift, some would kill for. Asks about play.
D, goggles, places encrypter into console. Two assistants. He throws lever, lights, chair.
La Sorbonne
DM enters offc where PF/CK waits, intro self as new legal asst. Hands her pprs, he examines: Oxford Law. The blonde from class enters, CHERE DE FOUNTENAY. DM has CDF show CK around univ -- and meet at cafe when finished to review resps. Additionally orders CDF, make sure Msr.Verne's notes on his desk this evening. She follows CK out, distrubed.
PP at corner while game cont, wakes as opponent pulls stock notes from pile. F/B "Why did you send Erasmus as well?" also an agent. Walked into an ambush -- false intelligence. Fall as followed, return fire. Opponent drags him back.
CDF walks in on JV in lbirary amid oters, sketching. Trying to get yourself expelled? She looks at sheet of tank: he's not sure wht it is yet. She catches glance from stu acro room, then DM, to steal it.
On 15 apr 1961, a 2nd train lne of 40km now leads suburbs to paris, what an imag tells fr to JV. With fr in bar. Steam trains crossing paris: friend points out, how set this on stage? RF and A also there, watchign. No steam: powered by a metal box woven with tiny wires. Scoff at him. In a hundred years, beyond train track, he says standing up: cars to clouds, say friend. No, we'll have gone to the moon (A purposelfully pushes cup off) gets up an "we must leave, Jules". RF watches as dept.
PP still while Baron and PF play. Stuck in reverie, PP apo for him. "Aren't you even sorry?" "Oh, but I am Sorry, Philea. I am sorry I ever put you in charge of that mission." PF shoots another rider off.
RF goes thru pprs in off. Sees drill plan, folds up.Sneaks it into.
In garret, JV doesn't undersstand A: first tell to nurture ideas, now hide. A: must trust me. I do, but. "If you speak too freely, there are those who would stop at nothing--" interrupts. STorms out: "No! This time, I'm gonna take my own advice."
FB, gets one more. Musket... "I did everything I could"
DM and PF in office. If may spk freelye-- she agrees law dept doesn't need another clerk; CDF seems very much in ctrl. She mentioned that a colleage, Mr.Dickens, might need some help. His mood suddenly sours: "Mr D has nothing whatsoever to do with this law dept" Then he does--? Don't seek other emp, don't gossip with Mlle DF. Suddenly -- does need her for, her special skills, scribles -- at the library, particular case. Lets herself out. He turns nervously.
STormclouds, garret. RF enters. Finds matching plans.
DM enters lab, nervously asks: any pgrss? D, in goggles, gloves and work shirt.. "Don't forget who brought you here!" when ignored, adjs ctrl. In next rm, watched by 2 asst, man writhes scream.s
RF looks up from plans, hears creak, goes out. A steps out of shadows. To desk, rolls up plan.
"We may have a small problem: the sight of pain bothers you." New asst - curious about you. Knows no one in Paris, no one should know me -- DM stammers explns. (D absently twists knob and screams incr) Brit. Sent her to law lib. Don't worry -- sends him off to get JV. Count Gregory will be here soon. DM leaves. Taps on glass and asst comes close: "Eliminate the problem."
JV staggers home drunk. "Is it vision, or is it multiplication? Bah. It's all so illusionary, it doesn't matter." Sees CDF? (Suzanne?) acr: runs at sight of him.
IN law lib, PF, heavy sneaks up and garrotes her. She reaches for fountain en, stabs in hand. 2nd, rams him against bookcase. 1st tries to throttle her, they fall to floor.
A and dark-haried lady, prop tavern, asks for him. Not there.
RF has pulled out of skirt into fighting leathers. Starts to snaps neck of 1 between thighs, gets hit over head with chair by #2, hits him against ladder. Swings from chand, drops bookcase on him.
Alley. "Jules? Do you like what you see? How much?" Walks up to CDF. "What's on your mind exactly? I thought so. Would you do something for me?" "Antying" She shoves open door and he falls in.
DM off, RF enters. "What are you doing here?" walks over, looks at garb. "Oh. My. God--" she grabs his crotch. "I want. Some answers, please, and rather quickly. Who were those men?" Professes ignorance. "Someone sent them. Presumably somebody with rather more intelligence than you." Oh. "That was a question." "Dickesn".
Airship thru clouds. Rpt to G: JV secured and ready.
PF and opponet. FB to snow, blood from belly wound over hands, 3 horses. He falls over cliff, PF grabs. "Save yourself, Philase, let me go." Lets go, slicked hand, falls into torrent below. Sobs.
Brainscan. "I suggest you kill him, and save me the trouble," says D when RF enters gripping DM by neck. Is truncheodd by aid -- then DM too. "Never mind." Greg girn. D laugns.
His game, baron. "Luck does seem to be running with me" "Not luck -- destiny, perhaps" "then some people are destined to win" Would place RF in that cat "You mustn't confuse privilege with winning" FB to pF rpt to dad. "Erasmus was my brother" "He was my son too, Phileas" "And so was I. Get out." Baron, game at end. PF searches pockets, finds deed to Shillingworth Manor -- but you must retain the servants. Baron: you cannot risk the family home. "What family?" "You've had title for only a matter of days" "All the more reason to let it ride" PP looks to it. "My home for yours. beat. It's a good bet, baron." Breaths. "Very well. SM for the Aurora." Batch of keys. "And PP. You'll need a navigator." PP nervously lays out deck, deals.
DM and RF hooked to devc, shake in pain. "What a clever notion. They donate their brain cells to pwr the future. Pain can be so sweet." Glass drops before spark. Image of CDF, then plans.
Hands of cards.
A comes upon archway. JV. "That's it, Mr.Verne, think. The future, Monsieur Verne, show me the future." Plans go. "Yes, more, brilliant." Img A. A steps before V. "You will not win this battle, Count" See G. "You speak of battles? Look at me!" "I have no need. I remember. You were lost. Lost in your world of darkness." "My work will becomd the world... the wonders of the future will be mine." Reaches for headset, cautioned by G. D laughs from behind window.
PF, pair of tens. Baron "my luck has apparently changed." gets up. "PP, attend to Mr.Fogg. He is your master now." Shake hands. Leaves, thanks PP.
A leans close to JV: no one can win battle but you, must stifle his ideas, imagination -- it is your mind he wants. CDF also on wall. PF knife from cuff, starts sawing. G demands more power. "You are too late, Arragautl. The images have been recorded with the encrypter." More than that. "The ftuure will never be yours" in defiance.
PP, exam cards, grins. (7c 7s 7d 4c 4s) PF calls. A launches. Below, baron looks up, takes off hat. "Goodbye, my faithful friend." Walks off to waiting cab, gets in. Where Queen and white-beard wait. That PF can still be counted on -- discreetely -- a worthwhile sacrifice.
PP pilots, PF surveys new property. "So, you really do know how to fly this thing." Not nec to remain at controls all times. Asks for glass of clart. Twists knob, secruing steering glob.
A to JV. "The future is yours, JV. You must not let him see it." RF frees herself. "Noooo!" count as she dives thru glass. Punches DM. Image on screen smears out. "For this A, you will burn in hell!" "No count, you have been denied. You must face your own truth." Pulls encrypter out. "You have not seen the last of me, Rebecca Fogg" Fades out. A pulls JV out.
RF wakes on floor as a nearby church bell tolls 8:00 [editing glitch: chimes 10 times]. She looks around: the room is empty. There's the clip-clop of hooves outside.
JV awakes in bed. "Was it a nightmare, Arago? Because I can't--" "Yes, it was a nightmare," reassures his mentor, "But it's over." JV swears he will continue with his plays, and think nothing of the future; he nods off. "For you, that was just the beginning, and for now my time here is finished."
Aboard the airship, Count Gregory swears: "I shall possess his mind, Arago."
RF looks up as the ship passes, and looks at the encrypter rods in her hands. "Not a difficult assignment, Miss Fogg," she sneers. "Matter of petty theft. Bah."
Sunrise as seen from the _Aurora_ in flight. "You know what, PP?" asks PF. "I have a feeling that our adventures are only just beginning."
Abstract: Passepartout impersonantes a king.
Guest star Bill Patterson, with Jonathan Coy.
BALMORAL, SCOTLAND: In a small church, the royal chaplain, REV.STECKLEY, is reading from the book of Ezekiel to an audience of five, including QUEEN VICTORIA and her two children. He gets to the part about "the Lord that smiteth ... let us pray," when the door slams open and a squad of men rush in. He tears his surplice asunder, revealing a vest lined with sticks of dynamite, and three men struggle to keep him from touching the two detonation wires. He takes poison from a ring, and dies. Another man enters -- Rebecca's boss, CHATSWORTH of the British Secret Service. He nods to the queen. "And now perhaps, ma'am, you'll allow me to institute some of the changes in security we've been postponing for so long."
PHILEAS FOGG exits a gambling hall ("House of Games, D.MacLeod, proprietor") and climbs into a waiting coach. "This had better be good," he tells Chatsworth. "I was about to teach the Duke of Cornwall the virtues of poverty." This is a direct request from Her Majesty who, the chief explains (condescendingly), for some unaccountable reason, trusts you. He explains the attempt on her life by the royal chaplain, whom she'd known for 30 years. In a few days, there will be a meeting of monarchs at Balmoral; and she wants him as a guard. He'll send along Rebecca as soon as she returns from her current mission. You'll take the train to Inverlockey, the proceed to CASTLE BANQUO to be hosted by an old friend of your late father, SIR NICHOL CLAIM. PF exits the coach, and Chatsworth pulls off his face -- it's a mask. The imposter beneath smiles.
PF arrives at the castle by coach, and is met by Sir Nichol. "Welcome to Castle Banquo, the most uncomfortable castle in Scotland," the man says cheerily, and while shaking PF's gloved hand, scratches at his palm in a peculiar way. Inside, they toast the Queen -- and PF's whisky glass shatters, drawing blood. SirN rushes him off, and the butler STRIKER carefully picks up a shard covered with blood.
SirN leads PF to his bedroom, equipped with a window, huge stone fireplace, and a four-poster bed with no curtains. SirN makes a comment, which prompts PF to say he doesn't remember his father ever telling a joke ("oh, at Cambridge he had us rolling in the aisles") -- and why did he never mention you?
Aboard Fogg's airship, the _Aurora_, his cousin REBECCA FOGG beats JULES VERNE at a board game. They comment on PF's own taste in competition. "Mr.Fogg is very fond of winning," notes his valet PASSEPARTOUT, from the map board, "but he's no fun when losing." Castle Banquo comes into view below, and JV notes that he's never seen such a sinister place. "Architecture by Frankenstein and Company, decoration by the Brothers Grimm," notes RF cheerily, "Not to mention glens stained with blood, hatreds lurking beneath the heather." JV and PP look at her, appalled.
In a cellar lab, Striker positions a pointer device near the broken tumbler, and adjusts controls on the attached device. Bellows pump, and an eerie moaning is emitted. In his room, PF stirs uneasily in his sleep.
SirN shows the the three in. RF comments on a suit of armor by the door, holding a nasty halberd. "Hacking each other to bits was a favorite way of passing a quiet evening," the lord says cheerily. JV pauses, noticing a large stain on floor, and SirN fondly explains: 300 years ago, his ancestor Hector MacLain cut Duncan Campbell in two with his claymore -- in an argument over how sharp it was. When PP asks, he answers that scrubbing has done no good -- but it's not ghouls, merely the composition of the wood.
In the corridor, lined with armor, they find more blood on the wall -- this time, a man skewered in an argument over the correct recipe for haggis. SirN shows RF to her room, where a fire is burning. She asks after her cousin; he answers that he's out there, probably just being PF; he'll join us for dinner.
At dinner: Striker and PP are carrying the soup, serving PF, RF, SirN and JV. PP is wearing a kilt, with a fuzzy horsetail-like item hanging from his waist. "I dress like a native Scotch, master, not to be conspicuous," he explains to PF. "Passepartout, the sporran is generally worn at the front, and is not used to carry the bread rolls." RF brings up the topic of her late guardian, PF's father. SirN says PF reminds him of SIR BONIFACE -- a character who brooked no opposition. He once threw a waiter through window for undercooking an egg. RF wrinkles her forehead; he hated eggs. Nonetheless, SirN covers, he could be a very violent man. "Whereas by contrast, his son is an infinitely relaxed and easygoing fellow," says PF drily. After dinner, SirN would like to offer them a diversion -- a visit to one of the finest torture chambers in Scotland. "Enjoy your soup."
The torture chamber: SirN shows them the Iron Maiden, an upright metal cabinet with a hinged front, lined with spikes. JV is almost ill. "You're always going on about the wonders of the human imagination, Jules," RF points out. "It does also produce things like that." Not anymore, he argues; progress is taking us away from that kind of barbarism. PF speaks up. "Every now and then," he says oddly, "I think the old ways are still the best." They all look at him.
That night, sleeping, RF hears a commotion: it sounds like PF and SirN. She steps out into the torch-lit hall, in blue dressing gown, carrying a candle. She hears a scream, turns a corner and descends the stairs; SirN's voice mentions the Iron Maiden. A shape rushes past her, and the candle blows out. She passes through the iron gate into the chamber, where a single lantern swings from the ceiling. The Maiden is closed, and tentatively she pulls it open -- to find SirN impaled inside, blood trickling from his mouth, a dozen huge holes in his chest. Reflexively she slams it shut again.
RF rushes to JV's room, where he's still fully dressed, seated in bed reading. She's uncharacteristically upset, and explains that she heard the two quarrelling, and Phileas seems to have killed SirN. "There must be a rational explanation," insists JV, taking his lamp and leading out into the hall. They check PF's room: his bed hasn't been slept in. They proceed to the torture chamber -- and the Maiden is empty, with no blood. Just a dream, he says; but it was so real. "I opened it, and there was the poor man's body," she says, peering into the cabinet. She thrusts door shut. "And I was the obvious suspect," says PF, leaning casually against the gate, his collar open.
"What have you done with him, Phileas?" she asks. "You heard, you inferred, you jumped to conclusions;" and now you believe he's a cold-blooded murderer. "You too, Verne?" but he shakes his head no. He hustles JV off by the arm; RF follows; to SirN's room. He answers the door. "Unpunctured, Rebecca, as you see." She apologizes to him, and SirN is very understanding; he'll have Striker make her a nice hot toddy, then back to bed; have to be ready to spring to Her Majesty's defense tomorrow. She turns to PF, but he shoves past JV. "There's no need to say anything, Rececca," he says, receding down the corridor. "You've made your true opinons of me abundantly clear." JV and RF look at each other.
Later, in his bedroom, JV hears voices and awakens. He proceeds into the hall (having pulled pants on over his nightshirt) and is accosted by a hand thrust from a hole in the wall. "Thank god you've come," says a dark-haired young woman inside. She fell in love with a shepherd, and her uncle bricked her up. Who? "He comes out of the air, in a great flying ship." JV pulls at the stones, then tells her he must get tools. "Don't leave me alone in the dark!" she cries after him.
JV pounds on PP and RF's doors, and grabs an ax from the wall. He explains the girl in the secret room, who says Phileas is her uncle. He leads them to the corridor -- and there's no sign of the gap. "And you naturally believed her, did you?" sneers PF, waiting for him. There's a scream, JV rushes up a spiral stair to the roof, looks over the crenellated battlement -- and sees the girl's broken body on the rocks below. PF comes over, looks. "A slight absence of body, Verne," he says cooly. Looking for herself, RF suggests it was a hallucination. "Either that or I've been *incredibly* busy," says PF. JV tries to apologize; he can't imagine what would ever make him believe PF was a murder; can you forgive me? "Why should I do that?" asks PF, and sweeps off.
In the lab, a pen traces a waveform on rolling paper. "Calibrating now," says Striker. Liquids bubbling, the bellows pumps a set of organ pipes. Above them is suspended a copper cone, linked to an acoustic pipe which vanishes into the ceiling -- and emerges over PF's bed.
Later, PP RF and JV huddle around the dinner table, conspiring by the light of a lamp. Something is amiss with PF; RF wonders if they're going mad. JV thinks not; they're hallucinations, dreams. RF: Leading us to believe PF is a monster. JV: which we know he's not. RF: Do we? PP steps in: "Mr.Fogg is a very scary person sometimes, but he never hurting anybody. Well, not many people. Well, never hurt them very much ... He only kills the very bad ones." He ascribes their trouble to the "sharp things" on the walls. PF agrees; there's something about this place that's causing them to project their fears onto PF.
SirN comes upon PF, standing on the tower. Is he also finding it hard to sleep? He overhead "young Verne" yelling; perhaps it was all that talk about PF's father -- but he didn't mean to impugn *PF's* character. Neither he nor his father ever took pleasure in violence, PF states coldly. "Surely all man take pleasure in violence, Fogg, whether immediate or vicarious." Man is a beast, "red in tooth and claw..." SirN circles PF, pressing his argument. "I'd rather hoped we'd risen above that," says PF, his certainty crumbling. "...and deep in our souls we all know it." "Perhaps that is why I avoid looking into my soul."
In the dining room, PP notes of his master that "usualtimes, his upper lip is stiff like a board". JV agrees; something's gotten to PF, too. PP has a solution -- hot milk. With whiskey. He leaves, and a thought occurs to RF: what if they've been given something to affect their minds, something in their food or drink? Or even in the air we breathe, JV finishes.
PP carries a tray, with a glass of milk and a lantern, to PF's room. "Master?" An ax slams into the heavy timber door from the room side. PP drops the tray and pelts back to the dining room to report this. JV insists it's another trick -- then they all dodge as an ax spins the length of the table and buries itself into the far door. PF enters behind. "Phileas, what the hell are you playing at?" shrills RF. He was about to ask them that very thing, he answers angrily as he crosses the room. He's fully dressed beneath his dressing gown, and pulls the ax from the door.
PP grabs a shield and morningstar from the wall, and whacks PF on the shoulder from behind. PF rises -- and sees an image superimposed over PP: a man in leather flying cap and goggles -- one of his old foes, a member of the League of Darkness.
PF turns to RF as she takes a halberd from the hand of a suit of armor. "What are they doing here?" he asks, confused. "Why are you pointing that at me?" Because you're out of control, she answers. The image appears over *her* now; in response, he grabs a sword from above the fireplace and cuts the wooden staff of the halberd. JV grabs an oversized pistol; PF sees the image over him, and attacks. PP knocks him down while RF grabs a sword of her own. PF slams PP in the face with the hilt, but RF pins his blade to the floor. They start parrying across the room -- while a man drags away JV's body.
PF knocks RF to the floor, and sees the shape again. He tenses for the killing blow -- and PP stops him, wielding two swords. He drops one, then the other. PF has a blade at his neck -- when RF slices him across his back. While they're distracted, a man pokes a hypodermic in PP's shoulder.
RF pushes aside the tablecloth and clambers onto the table. PF dramatically scrapes his blade along the stone mantel, then attacks; he pins her blade to the tabletop, and pushes her off. She rolls the floor and rises slowly, winded. He lunges at her across the rug, knocks her back down; sees the shape, swings...
SirN and Striker enter the room. "All three?" the lord sobs; look, there are the bodies. He tells PF he must be restrained for his own good; Striker hustles him off. SirN's mood changes: "You can come in now. Clean up that pig's blood off them, and well done, everyone." Three people enter -- the girl from the wall, and two men.
SirN enters a locked room adjacent to the lab, where PF is secured in a straitjacket on the floor. With a sad (yet gloating) voice, he explains: he tried to warn PF of the violent traits inherited from his father, but he didn't listen, and now it's come to this. You don't remember hacking RF and JV to pieces? "The truth is, Fogg, whole sections of your life have been blanked out." PF is crying now. Long ago (he explains), and with the connivance of his father, the British government began feeding him chemicals to increase his strength and psychic aggression -- to transform him into a killing machine, in direct service of Her Majesty, Queen Victoria. PF refuses to believe it. And above the kitchens on the _Aurora_? PP's workshop, "stuffed with every chemical known to man;" he was paid to put them in PF's food. "So don't blame yourself. Think about those poor hacked bodies up there. Think about what Queen Victoria and her minions made you do." Think: revenge. SirN leans close. "The next time you hear the words, 'long live the queen,' you'll know what to do."
In the morning, SirN and PF board a coach for Balmoral Castle.
In the lab-cell, the other three are similarly trussed in straitjackets on a rock floor. PP manages to rise to his knees, and tear through the sleeve. He yanks the necklace from PF, and uses the pendant to pick her locks. (Though she doesn't sit still for his efforts; is she drugged? Or being zapped by the sound-machine?) He frees her and moves to JV.
Striker leads one of the co-conspirators to the lab. "I almost feel sorry for them," he says. "I wouldn't bother," says Striker, adjusting the machine. "Soon they'll be loyal servants of the League." He looks through the window at them: still secure. "Count Gregory has his plans." They enter the cell, close the door. CRASH! PP (still in jacket) tackles Striker through the glass, while JV pushes the other through the door. When RF joins the fray, JV grabs a mace from the corner, and starts smashing the machine. Striker rams PP into a piller, while RF throws the other onto a table littered with drawings, collapsing it. Striker rams PP again, but he uses the momentum to run up the pillar, flip over Striker, and grab his neck. "You're too late," Striker gloats, choking. "Your queen's as good as dead."
SirN and PF arrive at Balmoral [the same courtyard set used for *everything*] and are admitted by the queen's Highland Guard. In the corridor [furnished with entirely *different* armor and weapons], SirN gives PF the keyphrase. He stiffens and heads up the stairs.
At Castle Banquo, the three board _Aurora_ and launch.
The gathered royals are seated around a long table in a sunny room. PF enters, and brushes past the protests of Chatsworth. "Ah, Mr.Fogg," says the queen cooly. "This must be very important." "I have uncovered a conspiracy, your majesty," he says, his voice tinged with gravel. "Another one?" she asks. "I intend to put an end to it. Immediately." He places his walking stick on the table, and opens his overcoat -- to reveal a dynamite vest, just like the late Reverend's.
_Aurora_ rushes towards the castle, a figure swinging from the trapeze. PF reaches for the detonation wires -- and RF crashes through the window, clad in her combat leathers, onto the table. "Phileas, don't!" She waves back a guard. "No. You're dead. I killed you." She stops his hands, explained they were deceived -- they're all very much alive. (JV enters via the stairs at the back of the room.) "Yes," says PF. "Very very very clever." RF smiles, believing she's reached him. "You look just like my Rebecca. And she even sounds like her, doesn't she, Father?" he says, turning to a figure only he sees. Her smile fades.
"We're not imposters!" she insists, a tear flowing from one eye. She can prove it: she relates a story from their childhood. The fair at Shillingsworth [Fogg's family estate], when she and Erasmus [his brother] stole all the apples from the orchard -- PF took the blame for that. He wanted them to be able to stay, PF stammers. She continues: she used to tease him about that stammer -- "but you beat that, and you can beat *this*." His hands drop from the wires. "You're not a monster." She brushes her nose against his. "You are a good man."
RF, still kneeling on the table, helps the stunned RF remove his overcoat, then the bomb vest. While the guards stand (and royals sit) inert, Chatsworth (quiet until now) storms over angrily. "I think we'll all entitled to an explanation, don't you, Miss Fogg?" She supposes they are -- and tosses the vest to JV. "Uh, it's very simple, really," he begins, and tosses it to PP. "No. It is very COMPLICATED!" shrills the manservant, who hurridly flings the garment out the window. BOOM!
The _Aurora_ flies off into the sunset.