Let me have the laser!
Give me your widest beam.
Full power.
The ship's finished.
We'll have to get out on our own.
Is there a quick way out?
- What about Dr Michaels?
- White corpuscles!
We've got to get them out.
They'll ingest the ship and everything in it.
Stay here, both of you.
Hold them off if you can.
What happened?
Dr Michaels... went berserk.
- Berserk, nothing!
- Get me out!
Get this on, quick.
If a window blows we'll lose this airlock.
Grant, help! I'm trapped! Help me!
Grant, can't get my...
Can't get my hands out. Get me out of here.
My hands are trapped.
I can't move... can't move my hands.
I can't move my hands.
I can't move my hands.
Get me out! Get me out of here!
Get me out!
Come on, it's no use.
- That's the end of the laser.
- You said there was a quick way out.
We could follow the optic nerve
to the corner of the eye.
Time's up.
We'll have to take them out immediately.
It means killing Benes. For all we know,
they may have completed the operation.
Damn it to hell!
Attention, please.
You will remove the Proteus immediately.
Remove the radar.
Prepare for trephination.
Light impulses. On the way to the brain.
We're nearing the eye.
Hold it, Doctor.
What is it?
That blip we're picking up
might only be a radioactive particle.
The Proteus may already be destroyed.
- What are you getting at?
- If I were in their place, running out of time,
I'd abandon ship
before I grew to dangerous size
and use the extra minutes
to get out the quickest way possible.
On my own.
Along the optic nerve to the eye.
Wait 30 seconds.
Glass slide, quick.
Open that door, please!
Subtitles by Visiontext
ENGLISHSorry we gotyou up at this hour, Mr Grant.
I thought I was on vacation.
What's it all about?
I can't tell you.
- Where are we goin'?
- I can't tell you that either.
You're to stay inside, Mr Grant, and wait.
Your ID card, please.
Thank you.
- Hello, Grant.
- General Carter.
- Good to see you again.
- The Pentagon, wasn't it?
Come on.
Benes! What the devil happened?
The other side got to him.
- How bad off is he?
- Brain injury. He's in a coma.
Before or after what he wanted to say?
Before he could breathe a word. He's the only
scientist who knows what we're after.
That's why we have to operate.
And why we need you.
Me? I can't even
put a Band-Aid on my finger.
Here's the surgeon. Duval.
Dr Peter Duval. Top brain man in the country.
Ever hear of him?
- I'm rusty on surgeons. Who's the girl?
- Cora Peterson, his technical assistant.
- You'll be joining Duval and the others.
- What can I do? Except pass out.
Mike?
Yes, Alan.
Meet Grant.
Dr Michaels, chief of the medical section.
- Glad to have you with us.
- I wish I knew why.
Tell him where he fits in.
I've got a fewthings to check out.
We need youfor security purposes, Mr Grant.
- At an operation?
- They know they failed to kill Benes.
Security thinks they'll try again. We're afraid
of sabotage: surgical assassination.
- Surgical assassination? You suspect...?
- Duval. That's right.
I don't agree. Just because he's diffiicult...
- He's impossible.
- It's no reason to suspect disloyalty.
There must be other doctors.
Duval's the most skilful brain surgeon
in the country - and he's right here at hand.
- I wouldn't know if he's trying to kill him.
- I'll be standing by. I would know.
You're to take orders only from Dr Michaels.
Understand?
- Right, sir.
- Come along. They'll be operating shortly.
See you later, Mike.
His technician OK? In addition to the looks?
No question of her loyalty.
- I'll take that, Corporal.
- Yes, sir.
I don't mean to be inquisitive, but this CMDF.
For all I know, it could stand for Consolidated
Mobilisation of Delinquent Females.
Combined Miniature Deterrent Forces.
Say that again.
We can reduce anything down to any size.
People, ships, tanks, planes.
I've heard some wild ones, but this takes it.
We can shrink an army.