Previously on Gene Roddenberry's Earth Final Conflict
There's a new deadly species parked in our orbit, and they make the Taelons looks like pacifists.
We have to strike now if we're going to stand a chance.
You don't get it Hubble. They just don't die like we do.
You knock them down they're right back up again.
They have to be obliterated.
I've told our human friend about the joining procedure.
I would begin with advisers to world leaders.
Few ministers hybridize and they'll return to their regular duties...
with a new loyalty to us.
Sandoval is bringing human captors on board
and forcing him into some kind of fusion procedure with the Atavus.
- Wait a minute he's human! - Not anymore.
Go go!
This is disgusting.
Well, freeze-dried aliens aren't big on deodorant.
Why couldn't we have portaled this specimen to your pathologist friend?
Sandoval's probably tracking every portal. I didn't want make Dr. Sam a target.
Oh, why are we doing this?
Because Dr Sam understands genetic mutations better than anyone.
If he can't cook up some bug juice to kill the unkillable, no one... can.
Sam.
Street.
Renée, what's wrong?
You nailed him.
I don't believe this.
There's got to be some way to kill them all.
In the twenty-first century,
an alien species known as the Taelons came to Earth with a promise of peace.
They lied...
Their true agenda was to dominate us.
After years of struggle the Taelons have perished
living more aggressive beings in their wake,
the Atavus.
My name is Renée Palmer.
My mission is to stop this new species from dominating our planet.
This is Earth Final Conflict.
Season 5 Episode 6 "TERMINATION"
Maybe we've been going about this all wrong.
What do you mean?
Instead of trying to kill them, we should make friends?
Forget scientists and geneticists.
What we really need here is an expert on death.
Like a pathologist.
Yeah, yeah, now you're talking.
Like Dr. Mataros.
The Boston butcher?
Renée, we don't need a serial killer.
Think about it. No one has studied death like this one.
You call killing people just to watch them die a study? Well gee,
maybe instead of a death sentence, Mataros should have got an F.D.A. Grant.
As a forensic pathologist,
Mataros was considered a genius, OK? If anyone can figure out what we need to know,
it's the pathological pathologist.
Well, maybe, but not from death row.
Don't even think about it.
...
Dr. Bullock,
court-appointed psychiatrist to Dr. Mataros.
Something funny?
Dr. Demented doesn't like shrinks. We take bets how long they'll last.
How will the prisoner be restrained?
Energy screen.
Don't worry, you'll be safe.
A lot safer though if you back out now, and I collect double.
Dr. Mataros,
I'm Dr. Janine Bullock, your court-appointed psychiatrist.
No, you're not.
I beg your pardon?
$500 Shoes,
custom-tailored suit, perfectly made up.
Wild rose on the wind, if I'm not mistaken.
The armor of a corporate raider, worn to intimidate the opposition.
Clinical psychologist, on the other hand,
tries to put his subject at ease, make him feel comfortable, un-intimidated.
Or have you forgotten everything you learned in criminal psych... Doctor.
Your powers of observation are... exceptional.
Yes, well, they have to be.
As a forensic pathologist,
I had do decipher my clients' most intimate secrets.
Yet, they were dead.
One detail overlooked,
and my entire evaluation of their remains would have been tragically inaccurate.
And a killer might escape justice.
Yes.
That would be tragic.
What is it you want, Dr. Bullock?
If that's your real name.
With your observation skills, surely you can establish motive.
Maybe a high-priced media producer doing a piece on death row inmates, or...
or a thrill-seeker,
walking the razor's edge by being in the presence of the infamous Boston butcher.
But I'm afraid you have nothing that I need... not alive anyway.
No?
I have... found someone.
Someone...
someone even you can't kill.
It's called an Atavus.
Interested?
As you can see, federal corrections is taking rather extreme measures to curtail my interest these days.
Well, maybe I can help you out.
Get ready. We got to move fast.
Impressive.
You realize this collar will kill me in seconds if I pass the prison walls.
Don't worry, we're checking out.
This is a wave pulse generator.
It'll fry the circuits in your collar, using a fixed-pitch oscillating amplifier.
- What do we do now? Click our heels? - Patience.
Watch and see.
The energy collar's down in Mataros' cell!
Full alert!
Go! Go!
Welcome to the future. I.D. Portal, the ultimate in transportation.
We got company.
Extraordinary.
I heard rumors of carbon-based alien lifeforms but...
dismissed them as tabloid delusion.
Yeah, you and everyone else.
- Did you hear the news about Mataros? - Did I make the 6:00 News?
Are you insane?
You... you brought a killer here to the only safe place that we've got?
Calm down. At least we know what she is.
Outside, more hybrids are walking the streets every day and no one has a clue.
Renée,
breaking her out of prison is a felony. You knew I didn't want to be involved in this.
Look,
I need her to examine that Atavus mummy, and believe me,
I'll send her right back.
- Look, if you want to leave, I can't stop you. - No, you can't.
So, it's settled, then?
I will need surgical masks and gloves,
five number eight scalpels,
ethyl alcohol, chlorine, clamps, a bone saw...
Bone saw?
You don't need to stuff the mummy in a suitcase, like your victims, Doctor.
Bone saw... cranial saw and suture thread.
Oh, and a bottle of Crystal?
'82.
Champagne!
You want a little bubbly to go with your butchery, is that it?
Actually, I think it would make it easier on everyone if... you drank it.
Ok, I got to run out and get these. You, keep an eye on her.
No, no, no, no. You keep an eye on her.
Was it something I said?
Boss.
Your powers of observation are... exceptional.
- Yes, well, they have to be. - Slumming, Miss Palmer?
- As a forensic pathologist, - Smuggled an I.D. Portal in.
Dr. Dissection must be long gone.
No...
Renée Palmer wouldn't break her out just to let her go.
Oh, trust me, boss. She can't handle that freak.
The second Palmer turns her back, Mataros will do us all a favor.
Don't bet on it.
- Can you track the prisoner? - Yeah,
All maximum security inmates have nano-bots in their bone marrow.
- We've already begun a scan of the city. - Right.
Tell the warden I don't want a panic on my hands.
Keep the lid on this escape.
Notify me the minute you pick up her signal, right?
Yes, sir.
What's an upscale broad like Palmer want with a serial killer?
What else...
learn how to kill the unkillable.
Oh man,
you mean an Atavus.
Hey, uh,
why didn't we think of that?
Well, there's good news and bad news.
The subject died of exposure, but the actual cause of death is impossible to determine.
Well I have found some unique anatomical structures.
But the remains are too decayed to learn more.
That better be the bad news.
Yes.
But then, I suppose, only someone like me would fully appreciate the good news.
What the hell does that mean?
It means that discovery's within our grasp...
however I am going to need a more recent... volunteer.
- One from this millennium, preferably. - Forget it.
Capturing an Atavus is too dangerous. I can't take a hunting party up to the mothership.
I'm not suggesting that you do.
Your website states that atavan DNA mutates within the human host.
Now, if I could study that, we would discover a lot more than we could if I examined a full Atavus.
You mean you want a hybrid?
If we're going to defeat their ability to regenerate,
we've got to know when and how they develop.
In order to observe that, the subject has got to be alive.
Nope.
No way. That wasn't the deal. You are going back to Rikers.
Capture the caterpillar and the butterfly never takes flight.
If...
I can get you a hybrid,
can you do this in a humane way? Full anesthesia... no pain.
If you like...
I'll sing him to sleep with a lullaby.
Renée, I can't believe you're OK with this.
I'm anything but Ok with it, Street.
Must I remind you that innocent people will continue to die
until we find a way to terminate this parasite.
Don't listen!
All along, Dr. Freakaziod has just been waiting for an excuse to carve up a living person.
A living hybrid.
That is until the DNA inevitably forces it to become a full Atavus.
Wrong! A hybrid is still part human.
How do we know that whole process can't be reversed?
Well, we don't. In fact, we don't know anything until we proceed.
Renée, portal her back now.
Oh, yes, you do that.
I... I'm sure there are a lot of people who would be interested in my research. In fact,
a certain recently-exonerated FBI agent springs to mind.
A hero in our struggle against the Taelons.
I'm sure he would be very anxious to control this new alien threat.
But then again,
Ronald Sandoval is no friend to humanity.
After all, he put me away, didn't he?
Are you happy now?
You send her back to prison and she'll get Sandoval to sponsor her little science experiments.
You know how much power Sandoval will have if he is the only human who can kill an Atavus.
You started this, you finish it.
You won't kill me.
Your only choice, really, is whom I work for.
You or Sandoval.
There is one other solution.
We take her to Sen-dep prison, instead of Rikers.
It'll be 20 years before anyone finds her,
filed away under another name.
Tough break, eh, genius?
It'll be a little hard to enjoy your Mensa subscription now, floating comatose
in a sensory deprivation tank.
Bravo.
Yes.
We picked up Mataros' signal, then it disappeared. Right near St. Michael's church.
Where is it now?
It's, uh, ping-ponged across town to no man's land.
I'm on my way. I'm taking a chopper.
We got to make this quick.
We got company.
Damn it! Cover me
Renée!
You didn't know that chlorine and alcohol make chloroform, did you?
That's why I wanted the champagne. To toast your innocence.
Stick with me. I wouldn't want to make a mess of you.
Why the sudden interest in the prison system, Miss Palmer?
Guess you'll never know, huh?
Damn!
Prisoner tracking. Please enter authorization codes.
Come on, come on.
Access code invalid. You have exceeded the time period. Goodbye
Damn it!
What have I done?
- What are you looking for? - A window to your soul.
You can tell a lot about a woman from the contents of her purse.
That's ridiculous.
It's quite scientific, actually. You would be surprised
how many murders are solved solely on the contents of the victims' purses.
For example...
What is this?
A modified DNA scanner.
Well...
Now, a Taelon is identified by his core energy, not his DNA,
as is a Jaridian. Now...
what aberrant DNA could this identify, uh?
Could it be an Atavus?
Oh, dear, that can't be right.
It says I'm quite human.
That's mine.
Give it back.
Are you sure?
Given that I have very little time to find a hybrid, you might want to ensure the accuracy of my selection.
I would hate to kill a human by mistake.
Please, don't make me part of what you do.
We all embrace death in the end, miss Street.
Most people are victims to it. The only death they encounter is their own.
Is that what you want?
To be a victim?
I'd rather be a victim than end... end up like you.
Are you all right?
What happened?
Not much.
Hung out with a serial killer,
Helped her pick out her next victim.
How it goes?
I've been in hell.
I...
I deserved that. I totally screwed up.
She's free.
She will kill again, if she hasn't already.
- Whatever happens, it's on your head. - I can't blame you for how you feel.
No. No, you can't.
You know, even while you were putting my ass on the line, I was trying to look out for yours.
I put an RF transmitter on her.
You what?
You can lecture me about my trust issues later. I.. I...
slipped a radio transmitter into her jacket. With a little luck, you can still find her,
before she kills again.
Hey!
Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.
Listen, are you going to the portal station?
Can I escort you?
You know, I'm OK, I can make it...
What are you?
Hey, buddy!
OK, this will lower your metabolic rate, Romeo.
OK, you're going to get very cold... and fall asleep.
Ok, she's stopped.
You're just a couple hundred feet away.
Hang on...
There's some sort of police activity in the area.
Oh, no.
What's wrong? Talk to me.
You're too late.
What do you mean? Someone else found Mataros?
Yeah, the news.
The police have cordoned off the scene of this brutal murder.
The body was found a short time ago covered by a jacket.
Either the jacket belong to the victim or was left by her killer is still unknown,
as is the woman's identity.
Street,
where did you say you put that tracker on Mataros?
In your jacket.
She took my Atavus DNA scanner.
She said she'd only go after them.
Well, unless she suddenly figured out how to kill them, she lied.
Gee, you think so?
A psychopathic killer actually lied to us?
How could that have happened?
What did you think this was?
Some slick corporate maneuver?
A harmless business deal?
Did you really think she'd let you take her back to prison?
I thought...
I thought I could control her.
She played us.
Now we've got blood on our hands.
Not you.
Just me. This was my doing.
Well, you finally got something right.
I'm out.
Anyone home?
Doctor.
Renée, you're there.
That's a relief. I'm not sure how long I can go undetected in the free world.
Where are you?
How kind of you to ask. I was growing a little uncomfortable in my present surroundings.
It's been a long time since I've been in church.
Yes, he is a hybrid.
Hallelujah.
Where is Mataros?
How could a prisoner with nano-bots in her bones be so hard to find?
I don't know.
She must have gone way underground somewhere.
Do you think she's figured out how to ice an Atavus yet?
She better not.
Find her,
or you'll be the next hybrid we put out there as bait.
Their meridians are the opposite of ours and their nervous system is twice as conductive.
- How much longer? - Patience.
All things come to those who wait.
What's next, water torture?
You may wish to recluse yourself.
Time for a commitment, Miss Palmer.
Time to... cut to the chase, so to speak.
Stop!
Put that down. You agreed!
I didn't agree to anything.
Street.
Just back off!
I just need a second, here.
I can't let you do this.
I've got a problem.
Yeah, you do. Me!
No, I'm referring to the fact that this...
this hybrid's atavan DNA has begun to spontaneously... regenerate.
Soon, he's going to be completely healed and inhumanly strong and
I will not be able to sedate him.
Time to cut. "Tempus fugit".
- I said stop. - Street!
I can't shoot through the screen.
Where are you sending him?
I.D. Limbo.
Hey! No!
Get lost, get lost.
There's got to be something wrong with that thing, boss.
- There's no way a serial killer could... - Quiet.
Agent Sandoval, oh, it's been such a long time.
Yes, it has been, Doctor.
Ghastly picture of me.
Ten years in prison has done wonders for my complexion, don't you think?
Yes, you do have that deadly allure.
You know,
I thought I'd seen everything there was to see in terms of human morbidity.
My life was a... an empty cell.
No more challenges, no more mysteries to explore and then...
suddenly,
voila,
a whole new field of study dropped from the heavens, right into my lap, so to speak.
And I have a new lease on life.
Thanks to Miss Palmer.
No, not anymore.
I hate to malign my own sex, but...
I find that women generally don't have the stomach for this sort of thing.
No, I...
I need a new partner.
Perhaps we can work something out?
Oh, I thought that we might.
But I must warn you that this field of inquiry is not for the faint of heart,
I have some, some rather unusual requirements.
Such as?
A fresh subject.
A hybrid.
Preferably one that's recently fed.
Better get to work before he bleeds out.
I trust that, as your partner,
we can work out a better severance package than the one you presently provide your employees.
Mataros may not be that easy to get to. Sandoval will have her under protection.
She's going to need it.
You'll need this.
When Mataros came back to the lair, I scanned her nano-frequency, it'll take you right to her.
She's set up shop at the asylum.
That's appropriate.
- Look, I... - Don't! I don't want to hear it.
You gonna be here when I get back?
No.
...
Boss... we're standing on shaky turf, here.
If the aliens find out we're trying to find a way to kill them.
They won't.
But pretty soon we'll know how to make an Atavus as dead as a headstone,
and knowledge, Tate, is power.
Keep working.
We got company.
Bravo, Doctor.
Now, how did you stop him from regenerating?
Sorry, sister, that's privileged information. And you and I no longer have an agreement.
What the hell is that?
Miss Palmer, you are very persistent.
I suppose I should be grateful to you for inspiring Dr. Mataros's
latest breakthrough. Unfortunately...
you won't be a party to the details.
There won't be any details, Sandoval, unless you back off.
Doctor death and I were just leaving.
Children... children.
Perhaps I could solve this dispute, now, I have a commodity that both of you want, so...
why don't we adhere to the rules of commerce?
- Spoils go to the highest bidder. - We have a deal, Mataros.
You want a new identity, I want information.
He'll never let you walk.
His alien masters ever found out he was plotting against them, they will rip him apart.
A soon as he gets what he wants,
you're history.
Dear, the lady does have an interesting point.
I propose that I get away safely and then I give you the information.
That way, I'm sure to survive our bargain.
Sorry, doctor, you must have realized the risk in coming to me.
Take that syringe from her and get me a new pathologist.
Well, that was a bust.
Not completely.
Give it up, Miss Palmer.
You're going up to the mothership.
Good timing.
I figured your ass would be in a sling by now.
All right. Where do we dump her, boss?
We don't...
he'll be cremated here.
Her ashes mixed with other deceased inmates.
It's cleaner that way.
Look...
I put you in an awful position.
I'm sorry for that.
I guess I just felt I was running out of options.
So what are you saying?
The next time you want me to back you and it doesn't feel right, I can walk?
Are you my friend?
How can you ask me that?
You expect me to be loyal, no matter what?
It's easy to be loyal when things are black and white. But we both know, our world is grey.
- I didn't ask for this. - I know.
Neither did I.
But I'm asking you, will you still be there, even if I'm wrong?
Apology accepted.
Ah Renée, there you are.
You know,
I have a lot to thank you for.
My heart is brimming over, truly, with gratitude.
- How can you? - How can I be alive?
It's a miracle.
I am the resurrection and the light.
Actually I'm your only light at end of a long, dark Atavus tunnel.
Where are you, Doctor?
Well, at the moment, I am having low-grade chemotherapy to wash the nano-bots from my weary bones.
We'll find you, Dr. Mataros.
I'd like that.
Maybe one day we can sit down.
Three sisters in arms, talk about how we saved the world.
Until then, I'm going to concentrate my particular vocation on a species of our mutual concern,
and who knows?
One day, perhaps, you will find comfort in knowing that I'm out there toiling on your behalf.
You see...
if you could only admit it,
the real reason you two dislike me, is that, deep down...
we are very much alike.