(music) [Throne room]
Do you require something? Yes. Your attention.
(Scott and McCoy enter, bow to each other and then start playing imaginary flute and
fiddle while Chekov and Uhura waltz.) What are they doing?
They're celebrating. What are they celebrating?
Their captivity. Do you enjoy the music? Music?
Music? (Their badges start flashing.)
Thank you, gentlemen. Thank you, lovely lady. You dance divinely.
Thank you, kind sir. (her slap knocks him off his feet.)
Why does she strike him? She likes him. Mister Chekov. The floor is
no place for an officer. Attention! Now stand absolutely still.
Yes, Captain. (and goes into an energetic Cossack dance)
That's better, Mister Chekov. It is illogical.
Your statement is illogical. (The flashes become a continual light.)
How does it look? Completely inner directed. Oblivious to everything.
Good. I wonder how Spock's doing. [Laboratory]
Of course. Your computations would inevitably lead to a total description of the parabolic
intersection of dimension with dimension. Mister Spock, you have a remarkably logical
and analytical mind. Thank you.
(He attempts a neck pinch on Alice 210.) Is there some significance to this action?
I love you. However, I hate you. But I'm identical in every way with Alice
Twenty Seven. Yes, of course. That is exactly why I hate
you. Because you are identical. (They go out of action.)
Fascinating. [Corridor]
All right, it's worked so far, but we're not out yet.
Well? Success, Captain. We've been pruning the leaves
and branches of the tree. Now it is time to get to work on the root.
If Norman is the control centre, he should be in a bind by what we've done. If we can
overload him further, we should be able to immobilise all of them. Does everybody remember
what to do? Affirmative.
Aye, sir. Acknowledged.
[Computer area] What are you doing here?
I want you to surrender. That is illogical. We can move more quickly
than you. We are invulnerable to attack. We are much stronger.
No, we are stronger. I'll prove it to you. Can you harm a man that you're programmed
to serve? No.
But you already have, Norman, laddy. Human beings do not survive on bread alone, you
poor soulless creature, but on the nourishments of liberty, for what indeed is a man without
freedom? Naught but a mechanism trapped in the cogwheels of eternity.
(in a monotone) You offer us only well-being. (in a monotone) Food and drink and happiness
mean nothing to us. We must be about our job. Suffering, in torment and pain. Labouring
without end. Dying and crying and lamenting over our burdens.
Only this way can we be happy. (Then they curtsey.)