Bloodline

Moving to new frequency. Solar interference.

Incoming transport detected.

Docking procedures engaged.

Thermal sensors detect

humanoids, level 36.

Humanoids advancing,

deck 47.

Long wait, demon,

for such a short game.

Now curiosity is satisfied.

And it's time...

for revenge.

Dr. Merchant,

consider yourself relieved.

What else, Chamberlain?

He's rerouted all available power

to his personal quarters...

and he's shut down

most of the ship.

I want you to check everything out

and find out why.

Yes, sir.

So, we have the company's

most productive space station...

hijacked and taken out of orbit

by the man who built it.

We have the man himself

immersed in ancient history,

letting the whole place

go to sh*t.

- Evaluation?

- Wacko.

I wasn't asking you, Carducci.

I was asking the expert.

Well, Rimmer?

Great man didn't live up

to your expectations, did he?

I'm sure he will, sir, as soon as I

can begin my interrogation.

Where's your crew?

I made them leave. They're headed for

Earth. Look, time is of the essence.

Was there some

technical problem?

No. Yes.

Yes, that's it.

There's been a technical

problem, and you...

all of you have to get the f***

off this station right now.

- When we go, you come with us.

- No, you don't understand.

Help me, then.

What's your name?

Rimmer.

I'm playing the endgame

here, Rimmer,

finishing something

that began centuries ago,

and I don't have the time

to help you understand.

You don't know

what you're playing with.

What are you afraid of?

Whatever it is,

it's here...

in this station.

That and things your little

rational mind couldn't even dream of.

But I dream.

Oh, I dream.

Parker was right.

You are crazy.

I built this place

for a reason:

To create the biggest trap

in the galaxy.

- What did you expect to catch?

- Hell is what I'm going to catch.

And I'm going to burn it away

in a blaze of light.

You're serious,

aren't you?

If I tell you

the whole story,

will you let me finish

what I began?

Centuries ago,

a man, an ancestor of mine,

Phillip L'Merchant,

built a puzzle box,

the first box,

his finest work.

Commissioned by a wealthy

aristocrat named De L 'Isle,

a man obsessed

with black magic,

a leader of the occult.

Phillip was so proud

of his work,

a work that would

establish his name,

his family... my family.

He didn't know the great power

the box held...

and the unspeakable things

it would release...

the evil,

the sins,

the pain.

- Is it done?

- Done.

- Is it wonderful?

- Wonderful.

Are you brilliant?

The finest toy maker in France.

Oh, what does it do?

Oh. It doesn't

actually do anything.

It's my masterpiece.

You simply

couldn't understand.

I was working to a commission

to a very specific request.

It's almost midnight.

Where are you going?

- The Chateau De L'Isle, to deliver the box.

- Now? Why?

Because my work might be

appreciated there.

It's late.

Stay with me.

Stay with us.

I must go.

My son will be born

in a better place than this.

This is only the beginning.

I can feel it.

All alone in this

dark, dark world.

No home, no family.

Not even christened,

I understand.

Jacques,

show this child

to a chair.

Enjoy.

Careful!

I'd be mortified if you

sliced your little finger.

Such a gentleman.

Are you always

such a gentleman?

No.

Not always.

Monsieur De L 'Isle is

France's greatest magician.

- What is this?

- So you don't bruise.

Easy, Jacques.

Keep the pressure steady.

She has spirit.

Splendid.

Now we can begin.

Ahh, L'Merchant.

As precise as your pieces.

As timely as your toys.

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