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4:30 p.m., I signed
an order declaring martial law...
This afternoon at 4:30 p.m., I signed
an order declaring martial law...
throughout the Mars federal colony.
I will not tolerate any further damage
to our mineral export operations.
Mr. Kuato and his terrorists
must understand...
that their self-defeating efforts
will only bring misery and suffering--
Mr. Quaid?
What?
I need to talk to you
about Mr. Hauser.
- Who are you?
- Dr. Edgemar from Rekall.
- How did you find me?
- It's difficult to explain.
Could you open the door?
I'm unarmed.
Don't worry. I'm alone.
May I come in?
- What do you want?
- This will be hard for you to accept.
- I'm listening.
- You're not really standing here now.
- Doc, you could have fooled me.
- I'm quite serious.
You're not here
and neither am I.
That's amazing.
- Where are we?
- At Rekall.
You're strapped into
an implant chair...
and I'm monitoring you
from the psychoprobe console.
Ah, I get it.
I'm dreaming.
And all this is part of the delightful
vacation your company has sold me.
Not exactly.
What you're experiencing is a free-form
delusion based on our memory tapes...
but you're inventing it
yourself as you go along.
If it is my delusion,
who the hell invited you?
I've been artificially implanted
as an emergency measure.
I'm sorry to tell you this,
but you've suffered a schizoid embolism.
We can't snap you
out of your fantasy...
and I've been sent in
to try to talk you down.
How much is Cohaagen
paying you for this?
Think about it. Your dream started
in the middle of the implant procedure.
Everything after that--
the chases, the trip to Mars...
the suite at the Hilton-- are elements
of your Rekall Holiday and Ego Trip.
You paid to be a secret agent.
Bullshit. It's coincidence.
And what about the girl?
Brunette, athletic,
sleazy and demure?
Just as you specified.
Is that coincidence?
She's real. I dreamt about her
before I even went to Rekall.
Mr. Quaid.
Can you hear yourself?
She's real because you dreamed her?
- That's right.
- Maybe this will convince you.
Would you mind opening the door?
- You open it.
- No need to be rude.
I'll do it.
Sweetheart?
Come in, Mrs. Quaid.
- I suppose you're not here either.
- I'm here...
at Rekall.
I love you.
Right. That's why
you tried to kill me.
No. I'd never do
anything to hurt you.
I want you to come back to me.
- Bullshit.
- What's bullshit, Mr. Quaid?
That you're having a paranoid episode
triggered by acute neurochemical trauma?
Or that you're really
an invincible secret agent from Mars...
who's the victim of an interplanetary
conspiracy to make him think...
he's a lowly construction worker?
Stop punishing yourself, Doug.
You're a fine, upstanding man.
You have a beautiful wife who loves you.
Your whole life is ahead of you.
But you've got to want
to return to reality.
Let's assume I do.
Then what?
- Swallow this.
- What is it?
It's a symbol of your desire
to return to reality.
Inside your dream,
you'll fall asleep.
All right, let's say you're telling
the truth and this is all a dream.
Then I could pull this trigger
and it won't matter.
- Doug, don't.
- It won't make a difference to me.
But the consequences to you would be
devastating. In your mind I'll be dead.
With no one to guide you out,
you'll be stuck in permanent psychosis.
Doug, let Dr. Edgemar help you.
The walls of reality
will come crashing down.
One minute you'll be the savior of
the rebel cause, and right after that...
you'll be Cohaagen's bosom buddy.
You'll even have fantasies about
alien civilizations, as you requested...
but in the end,
back on earth you'll be lobotomized!
So get a grip on yourself, Doug,
and put down that gun!
Good. Now take the pill
and put it in your mouth.
Swallow it!
Go ahead, sweetheart.
Now you've done it.
Now you've done it!
That's for making me come to Mars.
You know how much I hate
this fucking planet!
Cuff him.
-I

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