far down.
The atmospheric conditions below
don't indicate storm weather. What's causing it?
- I think we are causing it.
- What?
There's so much static charge,
not to mention the mysterious chemicals
that Keller picked up on his computers.
Now we have introduced
a brand-new alien substance - this ship.
(Thunder)
We are irritating the atmosphere
and it's scratching.
Noisily.
And Tarrant's communicator
appears to have packed up.
He didn't want anyone else down there.
I wonder why not?
Well, you could always go down and find out.
- Orac, teleport.
- Teleport?
I am not programmed.
Three squared to the principal...
- Oh, no.
- I love you.
- Orac!
- My emotions are deeper than the seas of space.
One times one is only possible
in the ultra dimensional.
- Turn Orac off.
- I love you.
Off!
We will be lovers for a little while
or maybe for a long while, who knows?
- I do.
- What a thought.
- Keller was right again.
- Vila, try and bring Tarrant back up.
VILA: Not operational.
Well, now.
None of us is going to faint with amazement
at that, are we?
- What's the next move?
- The usual one.
We'll wait.
Avon. Avon, what are you waiting for?
What a shame.
Yes, it is rather a pity.
We could all have had a reunion.
Instead, the reunion is limited to two.
What is your particular grudge against me?
Let me see. You sat and watched my brother die.
That doesn't seem to make me like you very much.
Aside from all the countless other reasons
anyone might have for blowing your head off.
What fascinating violence.
I'm also a fascinating shot.
Particularly at a distance of three feet.
Is that how close we are?
Something must be drawing us together.
- We're both looking for the same thing.
- Are we?
Then I suggest we agree a truce.
You mean I put the gun away
and you and I trip hand in hand across the base
until you brain me
with some convenient blunt instrument?
You underestimate your usefulness, Tarrant.
I said a truce.
Or we can stand here
until we die of sedentary collapse.
Because you aren't going to kill me, Tarrant,
however much you think you want to.
No?
At a distance of one inch,
the shot should be even more efficient.
Very neat, Servalan. You've found my weakness.
I prefer to shoot a moving target.
In other words, be very careful.
Sand everywhere. Keller was right about that, too.
Something else... It's warm in here.
Which means the life support systems
must still be working.
Then someone must still be alive here.
- Were you expecting someone to be?
- No.
It's fairly standard equipment.
If there's power for the life supports,
there will be for these.
(Beeping)
COMPUTER: Jam. Jamble. Scramble.
Uncode. Declassify.
Jargon. Love is the only reality.
I don't suppose this kind of machine
would respond to a kick in the ear, would it?
Keller. Colour. Cooler. Killer. Calor. Choler.
The computers here were affected
by atmospheric static. He said that.
It's useless, then.
I love you. I know a land where love...
Keller. Don. Don. Dun. Din. Dan. Den.
Perhaps we will be lovers for a long while.
Who knows? Who know...
(Computer switching off)
We'll just have to hope he kept a diary.
Ah!
Food.
All right, let's see you do it after five years.
(Electronic humming)
Don Keller, I presume?
Well, since you're alive,
how about giving me a good reason
for letting you stay that way?
Don't be such a fool, Tarrant!
Then he is dead.
Yes, of course he is.
If he's dead, how come his body's still
in perfect condition after five years?
Servalan, his body's still flexible. He's still warm.
Is he?
(Rumbling)
There seems to be something out there.
Shall I see if it wants to come in?
(Thumping)
Interesting.
Now we know why it went dark.
This building's been covered by a sand drift
higher than the windows.
(Bell ringing)
I'm hungry. Is that why I feel dizzy?
- Let's play a mind game.
- Lovely.
Let's imagine the three of you
have come under a malign