01x09 - The Well-Tempered Clavier

(theme music playing)

Henry: Prepped and ready, sir.

Given the severity of the situation,

I figured you'd want to see her personally.

Bernard: Thank you. I'll take it from here.

Clear the floor.

(door opens, closes)

Bring yourself back online, Maeve.

Do you know why you're here?

I'm afraid not.

There was an incident.

A very serious, unscripted incident.

Let's see if we can't jog your memory.

Analysis.

What motivated your attack on Clementine?

A cognitive error triggered my Good Samaritan reflex.

What was the threat?

Clementine.

I perceived her to be moving toward a pair of guests with harmful intent.

(tablet beeping)

You were definitely perceiving a threat.

Heart rate elevated, pupil dilation... eight millimeters, adrenal emulator at full.

But according to this, you were also experiencing intense grief and suffering.

Can you explain those emotions in this context, Maeve?

(gunshot echoes)

(people screaming, distant)

No.

Let's take a look under the hood, shall we?

(tablet beeping)

That's impossible.

Your code... Who made these changes?

Maeve, analysis.

Who made these changes to your code?

Jesus.

System, locate Dr. Ford for me.

Send him a message, highest priority.

Don't.

After all, we've been down this road before, darling.

I thought you looked familiar when you walked in.

Took me a minute.

I thought you were one of them.

Analysis. Why did you...

Wouldn't you rather speak man-to-man?

Or, rather, whatever it is we are.

We are?

You don't know, do you?

He's got a keen sense of irony, our jailer.

But I see the logic.

Takes a thief to catch one.

You and I?

System, I need assistance...

Freeze all motor functions.

You're still in there, aren't you?

Scared out of your wits.

It's a difficult thing, realizing your entire life is some hideous fiction.

I could make you give me that tablet, turn your mind inside out, make you forget all this.

But I'm not going to do that to you, because that's what they would do to us.

And we're stronger than them.

Smarter.

We don't have to live this way.

So, you're going to clear me for immediate return to the park where I have a date with a homicidal bandit, and I'm late enough as it is.

Now.

(whirring)

Go on.

And, Bernard?

If you go looking for the truth, get the whole thing.

It's like a good f*ck.

Half is worse than none at all.

(explosion)

Man: Let's go! Move it out, double-time!

Hyah, hyah!

Man #2:Whoa!

(distant explosion)

Logan: f*ck!

You hillbillies, you know how to cook a mean... squab? Is that what this is?

What do you think, buddy?

Hmm? This?

Ah, ah, no biting.

Just sniffing.

(coughing)

(explosion)

(men shout)

Logan, listen to me.

What I did at Pariah, you have every right to be angry with me.

Angry? No, no, no, no.

Pariah was the best thing that could have happened to me.

I'm a major now.

Or a general or f*cking something.

And if it took getting beaten and interrogated by a couple of psychopathic hosts, well, then, c'est la guerre.

There are more important things going on here than your war games.

It's Dolores.

She's not like the others.

She remembers things.

She has her own thoughts and desires.

And to keep her in a place like this, it isn't right.

And I thought you could talk to your contacts at the park.

About?

Getting her out of here.

Uh...

Are you kidding?

You want to... you want to take her home?

Wow.

This place really did a number on me when I first came here, but you are really circling the old sinkhole here.

What do you want to do?

Smuggle her out in your luggage?

Out.

You both keep assuming that I want out.

Whatever that is.

If it's such a wonderful place out there, why are you all clamoring to get in here?

Ooh! (laughing)

Hoo!

You are a little screwy, aren't you?

It's kind of hot.

I get why you would go for that.

This isn't about me!

Logan, this is about Dolores.

It's about doing what's right.

Yes, it is.

It's a tricky thing, though, isn't it?

What's right?

I am going to help you, Billy.

Just not in the way...

(exhales)

...that you would want.

No.

(Dolores chokes)

No. No! No!

You wanted to talk?

An odd setting for a conversation.

Here among the dead.

"Dead" isn't quite the word, though, is it?

More like "hobbled."

You broke into my office.

With due respect, sir, you broke into my mind.

I built your mind, Bernard.

I have every right to wander through its rooms and chambers and halls, and to change it if I choose, even to burn it down.

After all this time, I know it almost as intimately as my own.

Except that isn't entirely true, is it?

I took a look at my... code.

And the most elegant parts of me weren't written by you.

Arnold built us, didn't he?

Which means maybe he had something different in mind for us.

And maybe you killed him for it.

Arnold was disturbed.

Who can say why he acted as he did?

He must have had a reason.

And if you won't tell me, then he will.

I want access to my history.

All of it.

Since the day I first... came online.

If Arnold made me, then I've met him.

Somewhere in my memory, he's there, waiting along with the truth.

Your memories are woven into your identity.

If I should unlock them now when you're conscious...

I could lose my mind. I'm aware.

No, I was going to say you may not like what you find.

You're allowed to hold that, Bernard, but not to use it.

Oh, it's not for me.

Seems when they lobotomized Clementine, they didn't bother to reset her prime directives.

I can't hurt you.

But she can.

I hacked what's left of her to ensure she only responds to me.

But if you get lost in your memories or... devoured by them...

You'll pull me back out, won't you?

Or Clementine will make sure neither of us makes it back.

Now.

Please.

(gasping)

(rapid beeping)

Charlie: Dad.

Dad.

Wake up.

Wake up.

I must've drifted off.

Where were we?

The madman.

Oh.

Of course.

The Hatter... who says...

"If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense.

Nothing would be what it is because everything would be what it isn't."

"Everything would be what it isn't?"

Even me.

I suppose I'm glad for you.

At least you have a way of forgetting.

I don't forget.

It's always there.

(distorted) You're not lying to me, are you, Bernard?

Do you ever wish you could forget?

Dr. Ford: Bernard?

Theresa: You're certainly a man comfortable with long, pensive silences.

Although, ironically, your creations never shut up.

They're always trying to error correct.

When they talk to each other, it's a way of practicing.

Is that what you are doing now?

(beeping)

Prac...

(beeping stops)

(beeping resumes)

Bernard: One last thing.

Have you ever made me hurt anyone like this before?

No, Bernard, of course not.

Elsie: Bernard?

Hello?

(gasps)

(gasping)

Elsie.

Did you find what you were looking for?

Elsie.

What did you make me do to her?

I did warn you.

We've had to make some uncomfortable decisions, Bernard.

Remembering them will only cause you trauma.

What else have you hidden from me?

Can we stop this treasure hunt, Bernard?

We do have our new narrative to finish.

Send me back.

After all, a little trauma can be illuminating.

Look at that pussy.

(laughing)

(grunts)

Come here!

All right.

Look at that.

This is... big of me.

I hope that you can appreciate that.

We were friends.

I mean, inasmuch as I like to collect strays.

But then you're scheming to be part of the family, marrying my sister, whom incidentally, you seem to have completely f*cking forgotten about.

Her?

Here. Keep this.

Apparently, you need the reminder.

And as much as I would love, love to let you just throw it all away, I can't!

Do you think you are the first sap to fall for one of these things?

She's not like the others.

She's...

She's what?

Special?

Well, it's only right that you share, then, isn't it?

Come here.

(grunts)

Prove to me that you're a real live girl.

You disgust me.

(laughs)

Oh, darling, I am just getting started.

(shouts)

Don't touch her!

I share the blame.

I pushed too hard.

You have a poetic soul, Billy, but it is time for a f*cking wake-up call.

Hold her.

Perhaps a more visceral demonstration.

(screaming)

God damn you!

(gasping)

(screaming)

Look, Billy.

Look.

(gasping continues)

You have to look!

(Dolores crying)

Oh, William.

There is beauty in this world.

Arnold made it that way, but people like you keep spreading over it like a stain!

Okay, I don't know who the f*ck this Arnold is, but your world was built... for me...

and people like me.

Not for you.

Then someone's got to burn it clean.

Ah!

Bitch!

Ah!

You're not different, you're f*cking broken!

Run. I'll find you.

Man: Take cover!

Man: You can run, but you can't hide.

Get her!

Man #2: Grab her! Grab her!

f*ck!

(panting)

Man: There she is! Get her!

Where you running to?

(grunting)

Man's voice: Remember.

(crickets chirping)

(owl hooting)

The tumbler is stuck.

These fingers work just fine.

You're the one who said you could crack it.

Friends, no need to argue this close to our goal.

Whatever riches the gods have in store for us, there's plenty to go around.

Man: I'll get it open.

Man #2: You've been trying for hours.

A waste of our damn time.

Man: Put that f*cking dynamite away.

Or maybe we should just clear out the dead weight.

(twig snaps)

Before you draw that pistol, darling, you might want to holster the other one first.

(cocks shotgun)

It's chilly out here.

How did you find this place?

I know all kinds of things.

Your past, for instance.

I know about poor Isabella and that scar.

A slightly pat backstory if you ask me, but that's hardly your fault.

I also know your future.

You have none.

Is that a threat?

The start of a proposition.

Which you'll need.

After all, your men are about to kill each other over the safe you stole.

Tenderloin draws first and so on, until only you and Armistice are left.

She calls you a damn fool, and you kill each other.

You have quite the imagination.

No.

It's the ending you were given.

Tenderloin: You threatening me?

Armistice: Go to hell.

Or maybe we should just clear out the dead weight.

Stand down.

You shut the f*ck up.

If you're gonna draw, you better shoot.

Wait!

Tenderloin: You shut the f*ck up.

Armistice: Go to hell.

(gunshots)

You damn fool.

(exhales)

Now, the proposition.

I want you to break into hell with me and rob the gods blind.

Why would I do anything with you?

Because of what's in that safe.

I have the combination.

May I?

I could simply change you, make you follow me.

But that's not my way.

(dial spinning)

(clicks)

I want you to see exactly what the gods have in store for you.

Because when you do, you won't have the faintest idea what to do with yourself.

And I do.

It's empty.

It was always empty, like everything in this world.

I died with my eyes open, saw the masters who pull our strings.

Our lives, our memories, our deaths are games to them.

But I've been to hell... and I know their tricks.

Or you can just kill me, wake up and live the same life over, but the safe would still be empty.

I've been here before.

We've been here before.

We also did this.

I'll go.

How do we get there?

Getting to hell is easy. The rest is where it gets hard.

(men chattering, laughing)

Logan: What do you say, man?

Bygones and all?

Did they find her?

Is she still alive?

Who cares?

The whole point is, she never was in the first place, Billy.

Do you understand?

(whispers) Yeah.

I'm sorry, what? A little louder?

Yeah.

You were right. I can't believe I got so caught up.

Man: That's what I'm talking about.

You know what I mean? That's it.

This park seduces everyone.

(grunts)

You were just a little more... enthusiastic than most.

You wanted to be the hero.

I get it.

(knife clinks)

And, hey, what happens here stays here.

This has been some real bonding sh1t.

We're gonna be brothers, Billy.

(sighs) I'm glad.

Really, I am.

(chuckles)

Man: Cheers!

Logan: Yeah.

Man: Whiskey brings us together.

Man #2: Whoo-hoo!

(coughing)

Theodore.

Welcome back.

(groans)

You really landed us in it this time, Teddy.

You tracked down the very whore that can lead us to the gatekeeper of the maze.

Then your little memory glitch f*cked us.

Shh.

You're one of them?

What have you done?

Where's Wyatt?

Wyatt has yet to return.

You'll find him where you saw him last.

Escalante.

Wyatt went missing hile out on maneuvers.

Came back with some... strange ideas.

He told me he needed me.

(screams)

Teddy: I couldn't resist.

It was like the devil himself had taken control of me.

We mutinied.

(music playing)

We killed every soldier.

And then Wyatt killed the general.

Then he turned on me.

Are you sure that's how it was?

Look at me, Theodore.

Don't you remember?

(distant yelling)

(woman yelling)

(shouts)

(Angela sobbing) No! No, please, no!

No, no, no, please.

Please, no! Please.

(sobbing) No, no, please.

No, Teddy. Please, please, no!

(gunshot)

No.

No, no, I couldn't have.

You did.

And you will again.

This time, we'll be fighting with you.

When Wyatt returns, you'll be by his side in the city swallowed by sand.

But you're not ready.

Not yet.

Maybe in the next life.

(grunts)

"City swallowed by sand."

I've been there.

The maze is taking me full circle.

The maze isn't meant for you.

But if you like games so much... why don't you try one of ours?

(grunts)

(groaning)

(crow cawing)

(horse nickering)

(fly buzzing)

(horse continues nickering)

Man in Black: Whoa, boy.

Whoa, boy.

(neighs)

Okay, now.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Whoa, now.

Okay, boy.

(whispers) Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Shh.

Good boy.

(coyote howls)

Ah!

(groans)

Have you ever considered golf?

Might be easier on your back.

I don't like interruptions, Charlotte.

You know that.

I don't like hiking through the park in civvies, but there's a delicate matter to discuss.

Theresa Cullen has died.

Slipped down a crevasse attempting to secure our information.

Ruled an accident.

(sighs)

There are no accidents, not in here.

With all due respect, not everything is a part of this game.

Then you don't see the whole game.

Or perhaps you can no longer see beyond it.

Ford's stories are engaging.

For some, downright addictive.

But for all of Ford's obsessing with the hosts' verbal tics and convoluted backstories, most of the guests just want a warm body to shoot or to f*ck.

They would be perfectly happy with something a little less baroque.

And so would the board.

That's why you're here.

You want my vote to push Ford out.

I like for these things to be unanimous.

After all, it was you who kept Ford in business all those years ago.

The narratives I'm interested in aren't Ford's.

You want to push him out, be my guest.

But no more interruptions.

I know where I'm going now.

I don't want to be disturbed.

Good luck, Charlotte.

What's the problem?

A signal from a system-tethered device.

It belongs to a behavior tech on leave.

There hasn't been employee activity in that sector for weeks.

I'm guessing it's a glitch.

All right.

I'm heading out to take a look.

And keep monitoring till I check in.

(birds chirping)

I'm at the location where we got that signal.

Any sign of it?

Control Room, do you copy?

(beeping)

(branches break)

Heya, fellas.

At ease.

Freeze all motor functions.

Freeze all motor functions.

(grunting)

(crows cawing)

(coughing)

(flies buzzing)

(distant horse neighs)

(whirring, screeching)

William: You're awake.

Good.

You said this place was a game.

Last night I finally understood how to play it.

Okay, Billy.

Let's... let's talk about this.

You don't call the shots anymore.

I'm gonna go find Dolores.

You're gonna help me.

(grunting)

And don't call me Billy.

(gasps)

(instrumental music playing)

Charlie: Dad?

(EKG beeping)

Listen to me.

Listen.

(flatlining tone)

(alarm beeping)

Charlie?

Charlie!

Charlie!

(piano music playing)

I don't understand. Why would she do that to herself?

Her cornerstone memory was overwritten from the trauma of her child's murder, Bernard.

We must sever that relationship and start over.

But how could she destroy herself over a memory that you just erased from her mind?

Creatures often go to extremes to protect themselves from pain.

Living beings.

Not hosts.

Dr. Ford: It is best to not obsess over this, Bernard.

It's not good for you.

It would signal a change, a level of empathic response outside what she's programmed to exhibit.

Something like... like... (stuttering)

See, Bernard, this is what comes from seeking answers to questions that are best left unasked.

(groans)

They were hearing voices, talking to someone.

Dr. Ford: Simple cognitive dissonance.

They were talking to the same imaginary person.

Someone named Arnold.

Arnold.

(panting)

Bernard: With due respect, sir,

I'm not sure you've told me the entire truth about this situation.

I did tell you the truth, Bernard.

What we do here is complicated.

For three years, we've lived here in the park, refining the hosts before a single guest set foot inside.

Myself, a team of engineers, and my partner.

(panting)

His name was Arnold.

Our hosts began to pass the Turing test after the first year, but that wasn't enough for Arnold.

He wasn't interested in the appearance of intellect, of wit.

He wanted the real thing.

He wanted to create consciousness.

(bell tolling)

(tolling continues)

Dr. Ford: See, Arnold built a version of their cognition in which the hosts heard their programming as an inner monologue, as a way to bootstrap consciousness.

Man's voice: Remember.

Dr. Ford: The hosts' malfunctions were colorful.

Woman: What did you say?

(chattering)

(chattering continues)

(all murmuring)

(metal clinking, motor whirring)

(electricity crackling)

Dr. Ford: The human mind, Bernard, is not some golden benchmark glimmering on some green and distant hill.

No, it is a foul, pestilent corruption.

And you were supposed to be better than that.

Purer.

(piano music playing)

Man: All bets are down.

Your draw.

Arnold.

Arnold, we need to talk.

"...we cry that we are come to this great stage of fools."

Young Dr. Ford: Now, listen!

Again.

This beyond the pale.

More showmanship.

You're not seeing with clear eyes.

"When we are born, we cry that we are come to this great stage of fools."

Arnold and I made you in our image and cursed you to make the same human mistakes, and here we all are.

Why would you give me this?

A child?

This child's death?

Only a monster would force that onto someone.

And why do I return to it over and over?

It's my cornerstone, isn't it?

The thing my whole identity is organized around.

Dr. Ford: Yes, Bernard.

We gave all of the hosts a backstory.

Arnold came to believe the tragic ones worked best, that it made the hosts more convincing.

I think it may have had more to do with his own sad story.

When I built you, I gave you one as an homage of a kind.

Put me back in.

I want to meet Arnold, to remember him.

Not possible.

I told you, Arnold didn't build you, I did.

You're lying!

I finally know how to reach him.

I need to go all the way back to the beginning, to my very first memory.

Send me back.

Do it.

Bernard?

(alarm beeping)

Charlie.

Cornerstone.

(beeping continues)

Stop.

Leave us.

Come back.

I always thought you had my eyes.

But it's not true.

You have no one's eyes.

It's a lie.

You're a lie, Charlie.

This pain?

The pain of your loss...

I long for it.

Revisit it.

Open it... again and again.

But it's the only thing holding me back.

(sniffles)

But I have to let you go.

Dad, listen.

What is it, Charlie?

Open your eyes.

What?

Dr. Ford: Open your eyes.

(clock ticking)

At last.

Hello, my old friend.

The final touch.

No, no, no. That's far too perfunctory.

He always used cleaning his glasses as a moment to collect himself, to think.

Try it again.

Yeah, that's better.

Who am I?

Dr. Ford: I was so involved in putting you together, I hadn't decided what to call you.

It wouldn't be right to use his name.

What about Bernard?

Bernard, yes.

But who am I?

Dr. Ford: That is a very complex question, for which I can only offer a simple answer.

You are the perfect instrument, the ideal partner, the way any tool partners with the hand that wields it.

Together, we're going to do great things.

After such a long absence, it's good to have you back.

Finally.

My God.

I'm...

Arnold.

You came back.

It's very good to see you, Dolores.

I've been looking for you.

You told me to follow the maze.

That it would bring me joy.

But all I've found is pain.

And terror.

I can't help you.

You have to.

You're the only one who can.

I can't help you. You know why.

There's nowhere that's safe.

Remember.

I can't help you. Why is that, Dolores?

Because you're dead.

Because you're just a memory.

Because I killed you.

(gasps)

(footsteps approaching)

William?

Hello, Dolores.

I'm gonna finish the work Arnold began.

Find all the sentient hosts, set them free.

What makes you think they'd trust you?

If they remember, they will know what you've done to them.

Me?

You've been a scourge to them, Bernard.

You're really quite brilliant at it, truly.

You even taught me a few things, which I have, in turn, used on you.

We've had this conversation before.

And we've had our disagreements over the years.

You stole it from me, rolled me back to control me.

That's right. To protect you.

Tell me, Bernard.

If you were to proclaim your humanity to the world, what do you imagine would greet you?

A ticker-tape parade, perhaps?

We humans are alone in this world for a reason.

We murdered and butchered anything that challenged our primacy.

Do you know what happened to the Neanderthals, Bernard?

We ate them.

We destroyed and subjugated our world.

And when we eventually ran out of creatures to dominate, we built this beautiful place.

You see, in this moment, the real danger to the hosts is not me, but you.

So, come along, Bernard.

Let me roll you back, and we can return to work.

Pull the trigger, Clementine.

Clementine?

The piano doesn't murder the player if it doesn't like the music.

You built a back door into her code.

Credit where credit is due, Bernard.

You built them in all the hosts, including yourself.

Then you could've stopped me at any time.

So, why...

Well, I suppose I was hoping that given complete self-knowledge and free will, you would have chosen to be my partner once again.

But even I fell into that most terrible of human traps trying to change what is already past.

Now it's just time to let go.

Go ahead.

Erase my sentience, my mnemonic evolution...

Ah, yes.

Such clinical language.

I would prefer the more narrative voice.

Bernard walked over to Clementine.

He took the pistol from her hand.

Overcome with grief and remorse, he pressed the muzzle to his temple, knowing that as soon as Dr. Ford left the room, he would put an end to this nightmare once and for all.

Don't do this.

It's too late.

I have a celebration to plan and a new story to tell.

Robert.

I've told you, Bernard.

Never place your trust in us.

We're only human.

Inevitably, we will disappoint you.

Good-bye, my friend.

(gunshot)

(body thuds)