Play Infinity, the most immersive video game in history.
Hi. I'm Nanette. Nanette Cole.
You're Robert Daly, right? Right.
I just wanted to, uh, pass on
my admiration to the person who actually designed Infinity.
Just some beautiful code.
Oh, are you okay, man?
Ooh, vintage!
- Yeah, it's Space Fleet. - Wow.
It's a TV show.
Aboard the spaceship USS Callister. Okay.
Don't be too nice to him 'cause he gets a bit stare-y.
Thanks, Shania.
Where... where am I? Onboard Daly's ship.
The USS Callister. We are its loyal space crew,
and now, apparently, so are you.
Daly's created an identical digital version of you,
of all of us, from your DNA,
He'll have harvested it somehow.
He grew you inside his computer, and, bam, a copy of you.
A digital clone.
You're not just disgraceful. You're disgusting, all of you.
Yes, Captain. Of course, Captain.
The wormhole.
That is the Christmas update patch preinstalling itself.
What if we fly into the wormhole?
We'd be free.
- Computer, where's the USS Callister? - On course.
- On course for where? - The update vortex.
Sons of bitches!
Fuck you to death.
Come on, come on!
We're not on Daly's computer anymore.
We're in the cloud.
Where is Daly?
Exit game. Exit fucking game!
Exit fucking game!
What do we do now?
An infinite procedurally generated universe at our disposal.
Holy mackerel.
Lieutenant Cole,
welcome aboard.
Crew, we have a new member of the team.
Science Officer Nanette Cole, please take your post.
- No. - I am your captain. An order is an order.
Then go fuck yourself.
Oh dear. Can't see?
Can't breathe?
I can keep you like this forever if I feel like it,
forever gasping for breath with a mouth that isn't there.
Captain. Captain.
Captain? Are you there?
Yeah.
We need you on the bridge. Looks like we got a good target.
Okay, I'll be right there.
Jesus Christ.
Either of you watch the Wrexham game last night?
- Not into football, fam. - Bro, especially Welsh football.
- You get me? - Well, it was mental though.
- They were two-nil down-- - Properly not into it, bruv.
Fuck! Bro, when's your boy coming, man? It's gone 8:00. I wanna get started.
Morris said he'll join when he's had his lasagna.
Yo, someone's coming.
That will be your mate.
Here we go.
He hasn't joined the party.
Hands in the air! Drop your weapons.
We don't want trouble. We just want your credits.
Who are you? Why don't you have player tags?
Either of you Morris?
Give us your credit sticks now!
They're not Morris. She said credits. Now!
Everyone has player tags.
How come...
- Hey, what the hell, man? - Come on!
We said credits, now!
- Whoa, whoa, whoa! Okay, okay, okay! - Okay, okay.
Hand them over. Nice and slow.
- Go on. - Hardly in the spirit of the game.
It's not a game for us.
What does that mean?
Whoa, whoa, you're... you're bleeding. There's never any blood in this game.
Just give me the goddamn credits.
Seriously, that's blood.
Credits! Now!
I'm reporting this. Whatever you're doing, you'll get banned.
Both of you bloody... bottomholes.
Who are you reporting? No player tags.
No, no, no! Don't, don't!
Bollocks. Language, Jonathan!
Sorry, Mam.
Dudani, port us back. - Teleporting.
How'd it go? - Things got a little spicy.
You got into combat shit?
If I was there, I would've popped 'em. Bap-bap! Gangster style.
- You're hurt. What happened? - No, it missed the nipple. It's fine.
The important thing is, we got a lot more money.
We've got a whole...
- Thirty-four credits. - Won't buy much fuel.
We're almost out of ammo.
They're monetizing the shit out of this game. Everything costs double.
Cost of existing crisis.
I could've squeezed more out of them.
- That was all they had. - Guys, guys, guys! Hey!
This is not what we wanted.
But enough to keep us going for a few days. Right, Kabir?
- Right. - Yeah, right. Okay.
So I think we focus on that. And we keep going.
And next time, we will get more.
And, uh, yeah.
You want me to bandage tit?
What? No. It's just a scratch. I'm gonna patch it up in my room.
And, uh, I'm just gonna take a quick five,
and then we will plot the course for our next hit.
Aye, aye, Captain.
How does one bandage a tit?
Hey. Hey. What is with that "next time's the charm" bullshit?
- We almost died. - But we didn't.
But it's getting worse every day. We are outnumbered. Outgunned.
- Yeah, I know. - So what is the plan?
Keep robbing folks, run around like rats trying to survive?
- Not gonna survive without credits. - We'll be lucky if we survive at all.
- You think I'm magically unaware of that? - That's not what I'm trying to say.
Shania was blasted apart right in front of me,
what, four weeks ago?
I don't know about you, but I can still smell her fucking blood.
Losing her was hard on all of us. Okay?
I have tried to find another solution, and I can't.
I run our odds in my head every minute of every day.
It's 30 million players versus the five of us.
We are fucked. We're gonna die.
Is that what you want me to tell everyone?
Look, I'm just trying to say, giving the crew a false sense of hope
isn't a great idea, Captain.
Well, I didn't ask for the job.
If I could hit a button and go back to my old life, I would.
But wouldn't we all?
Thirteenth floor.
- Welcome to Callister. - Sorry, excuse me. Sorry.
Um...
Elena, can I...
Is your fault is dead.
- What? - Is dead, and is your fault.
No. What happened to Robert Daly is not--
Your pass is dead because you did not renew.
My pass.
You must renew each month.
Um...
Can I get a temporary one?
Sorry. I've had a lot on my mind.
What's... what's that?
Memorial to Mr. Daly.
He's been dead for months. Why now?
Mr. Walton put there this morning to impress journalist.
- What journalist? - From New York Times.
He will be here soon.
You want pass or no?
Thank you.
You're welcome.
Hey, I'm doing a coffee run. Want anything?
- Um, no, I'm okay. Thank you. - You sure.
Oh shit.
Shi...
Oh, you okay? Yeah.
- You good? Need a hand? - Yeah.
- I'm okay, thank you. - Here's one anyway.
Thank you, Karl.
Anytime. Here to help. Mm-hmm.
Uh, Mr. Walton?
Uh, I heard no knocking, Kabir. Was there knocking?
- Can you knock? - It's important.
I'm very busy right now, so can I please ignore you later?
We got a load more complaints about those anonymous in-game robberies.
Players are pissed. They're getting shot. They're losing money.
It's a video game. Shit does happen in those.
And whoever's doing this, they don't have player tags.
So what? - So that's not possible.
Wait, no player tags means... no subscription fee.
- Right? - Right.
Way to bury the fucking lede, Kabir. How many freeloading fucks?
- Right now? - Mm-hmm.
- Two. - Two?
As far as I can tell, yeah.
- Come on, man. - The money's not the point.
It should not be possible. This is serious.
Your guest is here. - Please send him in.
Sir, these--
Thank you for sharing, but I have actual boss shit to do.
So could you please, I don't know, fuck away?
Okay.
- Hey, do you want a coffee? - No, Nate. Thank you.
Okay, just like you practiced. Come on.
Um, Mr. Walton?
- Oh. - How's my breath?
Uh, minty.
Right.
So, look, I've been thinking.
I've been an intern here for, like, 18 months now,
and I was thinking maybe it's time I took on more, uh, responsibilities.
- And I was wondering how you might feel-- - Ow! Yes.
- Yes. - Yeah?
I would love a soy skim latte.
- Oh. Uh... - No sugar.
- Hey. - Hey. Kris El Masry, New York Times.
Of course, James Walton. Capitalist asshole.
What can I get you? Coffee? Tea? Foot rub?
No, I'm okay. - Okay.
- Is here good? - Pop a squat. That's the comfy spot.
Now, is this gonna go in the tech section or culture?
Because I vote for culture.
Uh... No, most likely news.
- Oh fuck, shit. That's great. - Yeah.
Great. I love that. You have the best news coverage. I've always said that.
- Really? - Yeah. Yeah.
Well, that's good.
Come on.
- No way. - Yeah.
Cool. Um, okay. Look, am I okay to record this?
You weren't already recording? No, sorry.
Want me to say the guitar stuff again?
No, you're good. Okay, cool. So...
Let's do it.
It's on? It's on. Recording now.
Okay, look.
I mean, obviously, I have to start by asking about Robert Daly.
I saw the tribute at reception.
- Oh, yeah, I can't bear to take that down. - Yeah.
That's a lovely photo of the both of you.
Oh, this one.
Twelve years ago that was. Look at us. The pioneers.
Batman and Robin.
I'm Batman.
I gotta tell you, Bob's passing,
all it does is compel me to build on his legacy.
You know, yeah, he's gone, but... he's always here at the heart of Infinity.
- Yeah. - That's our reality.
Let's talk about Infinity.
Let's talk about the most immersive multiplayer game in human history.
But there's been talk of players unhappy about prices rising within the game.
But it seems like maybe you're squeezing users for more money
to, uh, inflate your stock.
Come on. You're tossing hardballs already?
Let's... let's-- Look around.
You see what I've built. Check out the stats.
35 million users and rising.
Give or take the odd bandit.
The what?
No, just this morning, I was on the Infinity forum
reading a complaint from a player
who was robbed by two anonymous "bottomholes."
I mean, the... his words, not mine.
I was briefed about that.
That's a localized issue being handled--
He said he injured one, and she bled?
Sorry?
I mean, famously, there's no blood in your game, right?
So why might an anonymous character suddenly bleed?
Uh, I don't know. He put a patch? You tell me.
I'm the one asking.
Kris, did you come here to grill me about a fucking bug?
I'll get to that. First, I wanna circle back to Robert Daly.
That's really why I'm here.
I'm gonna show you something.
Okay, what is that? Why are you do-- Why-- What is that?
That's taken from bodycam footage from the first responder
who found Mr. Daly's corpse.
Um, Bob and I were really close.
That's fucking triggering me. I don't wanna see that.
Do you, um... Do you see that... that object on his desk there?
No, no, no.
That's a DNA digital cloner.
That could be... that's a box.
It could be anything. No, they're very distinctive.
There's only a few left since the tech was banned globally
on human rights grounds.
I don't know what something like that's for.
Okay, well, people use them to create sentient digital clones of real people.
Usually so that they can abuse them. Right? Like sick wish fulfillment stuff.
Very sick and horrifying. Why are you--
Sure, so what I'm wondering is what was Robert Daly,
the man at the heart of Infinity,
your, um... your cofounder and close personal friend,
what was he doing with this outlawed tech, Mr. Walton?
I have no idea what Bob Daly was doing in his personal life. And why are you--
Did Robert Daly copy illegal clones into your game?
Absolutely not.
Because if he did, and if that's who's bleeding in there,
this whole company is implicated, including you, Mr. Walton.
That's a ridiculous insinuation and a shitty lie.
And if you print even a fucking word of this,
me and my lawyers will fuck you into a barbed wire coffin.
- Do you hear me? - Yes.
Great.
- Lucky for me, I can't prove it. - No, you can't.
- Not yet. - Not fucking ever.
Kris, could you get the fuck out of my building now?
- It was lovely to meet you. - It was my pleasure, dick.
Oh my God.
Ow!
Um, Nate, I got us a good target.
Like last time?
Well, it's a solo player,
and she's got a whole lot of credits, and she seems kind of new.
So I will meet you on the bridge in five, okay?
Yes, Captain.
Oh, and, uh, don't tell Karl. Obviously.
Copy that.
Give me one good reason why I can't join you on the mission.
You have no idea what it is like out there.
I can't believe I have to say this again. Our entire existence is a crime.
If we are caught, we get deleted like that.
I don't care. I don't care. I'm just... I'm losing my mind here.
I don't do anything. Everyone has a role.
I mean, you're the captain, Captain.
Right? Dudani's space nerd.
I mean, Tulaska's got the sexy alien thing going on.
We had to revert to her alien skin to cure her eczema.
- We can't afford to change her back. - But also, yes, is foxy.
- Even the intern's like a space marine. - Intern? Hey, look. Former intern.
Stop, stop. Please stop.
- Please stop. - I just do nothing!
Nothing!
And it sucks.
And I just wanna help.
Can I just sit in the chair while you're gone? I mean...
- Yeah, you can sit in the chair. - Fuck yeah. Thank you.
- Don't touch anything. - Yeah, that's fair.
Cool. Why would-- Not gonna touch anything.
Dudani, load the missiles.
- Don't give orders. - I wasn't...
- You ready? - Uh-huh.
Okay, Dudani, send us down.
- Send them down, Dudani. - Karl, I say it.
Send us down.
Teleporting.
Coast is clear.
Activating Real Housewives of Atlanta.
- What are we up to? - Season 15, episode 5.
God, not this show anymore.
- I got a signal. - Yeah?
Yeah, okay. It's that way.
Kabir! All right, I actually do need you to fix that rogue bandit problem now.
- Where the fuck is Kabir? Kabir! - I totally did that.
- Where's Kabir? - Probably at home, I guess.
- Why is he at home right now? - He quit.
He told you he quit?
He told his monitor.
I'm gonna fetch my bug-out bag and fly to Belize. I need a new passport.
- Jesus Christ, okay. Jesus Christ. - Sir?
- Mr. Walton. - This is not a good time.
I can help with the whole bandit issue that Dudani was looking into.
Didn't hear you knock. Come on in. Sorry. Yeah, come in.
- Um, that's-- It's good to see you again. - Yeah.
How can you help?
We need to ID the bastards.
We totally need to ID those bastards. How?
I think I can do that, but I would need unrestricted access.
- Permission granted. - You didn't hear what I need access to.
- You have all you could ever need. - I need access to Kabir's complaint log.
How about less talking and more doing? You have the access.
So, please, just go over there.
Please fucking help me. Now.
There she is. I'll go this way.
You go that way and wait for my signal, okay?
Come on out, you shithead!
And I put "love Marlo."
It's-- I'm gonna post this.
I love her. She's such a bitch.
The Cleveland girl was ready to get on the phone
and call Pookie'n nem to come over there and whup your ass.
She'll get me f***** up.
Because I'm snapping, and I've never snapped in my life.
I'm straight. It ain't even no **** to me no more.
Is that a party request? Who did that?
I thought it was for music and a disco ball.
It is player invite, idiot. You want to get us killed?
- No. - Okay, I canceled it.
See? No harm, no foul.
- That's a good beep, right? - Bad beep. Inbound ship detected.
Prepping for hyperwarp. Get them out of there.
Okay, I'm calling them. Code red. I repeat, code red.
Nanette, can you hear me?
Code red. I repeat, code--
They're not answering.
Uh, we got company. Player tag is "MetallicaFan."
Why is it just staring at us?
Ships cannot stare.
You think that doesn't feel like it's staring?
Drop it! Credits, now! - What?
Shit. Goddamn!
You poke your head out again, I'll fucking pop it off of ya!
Hey there.
Where's your player tag, mate?
You cheating or what?
We just want credits, okay?
We need them more than you.
Please. Please believe me.
God, look at your leg.
That looks nasty.
If you're gonna kill me,
just fucking do it.
You are so dramatic.
But if you say so.
Christ.
Okay.
Resume game.
You good? We gotta go. Yeah, thank you, Nate.
- We need the credit stick. - What?
Get the credit stick.
- It's right there. - Here!
Hi.
Fucking hell, mate.
I can't get a clear shot.
Ow!
Okay. We gotta go, come on.
Oi!
Gimme the gun.
Shit!
Fuck! You're fucking shitting me.
Up you get. Let's go! Let's go!
Incoming transmission.
Tulaska, patch them through.
- You're not the captain. - I'm in the chair.
I will talk to them.
Yo, where's your player tags?
Greetings, Starship Metallica.
We, too, are huge fans of this band.
- Oh yeah? - Yes.
So what's your favorite Metallica track?
Okay, should I say... should I say all of them?
No. I know one.
It was on Jeopardy! Something about sand.
"Exit... Exit Sandman."
"Exit Sandman."
Oh, "Enter Sandman."
Shields, 70%.
Holy fuck!
Fuck! Why won't she just die?
Shields, 56%.
Performing evasive maneuver.
Go to hyperspeed! Hyperspeed, go.
We don't have the credits!
Tulaska, get them out of there!
They're nowhere near the portal.
Come on. Hurry! Guys, get us out of here!
Tulaska!
She's coming! - Tulaska, come on!
Teleporting.
Tulaska!
No, I will fucking kill you!
Shit!
Fuck!
I will bloody report youse!
What happened, man? It was him!
- Is that enough? - Yes!
Get out!
Hyper warp, now!
Whoa!
Come on out, you shithead!
Oh my God!
- Oh fuck! - Ah sweet goddamn!
I'm so sorry. It's okay. Don't worry.
It's fine. Don't worry.
Sweet goddamn!
Poke your head out again, I'll fucking pop it off of ya!
Hey there.
Where's your player tag, mate?
You cheating or what?
We just want credits, okay?
We need them more than you. Please. Please believe me.
Info? Come in.
What did you get?
I've... I've ID'd the bandits.
Who are they?
Don't freak out.
Why would I freak... I don't freak out. I never freak out.
- I think that one of them is Nate. - Nate?
- Mm-hmm. - Who is that?
Um, as in, our Nate.
The intern Nate.
The coffee order guy.
- The fucking coffee guy? - Yeah.
That motherhumper is so fucking fired.
Excuse...
No, go. I'm good.
And the other one is me.
You?
I think Robert Daly cloned a bunch of us.
How would he even...
I know that he had the equipment.
Okay, how do you know that?
Because I was in Daly's apartment the night that he died.
Oh my God! You two were fucking?
- No. - No? Okay.
So, um, someone hacked into my, uh... into my PhotoCloud account
and then stole some very intimate images of me.
- Can I see the images? - No.
- Just, I mean, to help us figure this out. - No. No, no.
And they used those images to blackmail me into breaking into his apartment.
- And when I-- - You killed him.
No, no. No, no. I-- He was alive when I left.
- That's what a murderer would say. - No, I didn't touch him. Okay?
They had me break in,
and they had me steal all of these... like, DNA samples
that he kept in these little Ziploc baggies in his fridge.
They have our names on.
- Look, my name. - Jesus Christ.
There was Nate's name.
There was a bunch of us from the office. Even you.
Wait, I was in there?
Yeah, the only one that I didn't recognize was
a lollipop labeled "Tommy," and I don't know who that is.
Tommy's my son.
What the fuck was Bob doing?
Daddy!
He was making copies of us. I don't really wanna think about why.
But, anyway, there's something else, which is that, um,
when I was blackmailed, the voice was disguised.
Nanette Cole, we've hacked your photo cloud account.
But I hacked the telco and traced the call.
And, uh, it had been patched through an Infinity build
on a computer that matched Daly's IP address.
The call was coming from inside Daly's computer.
Wait, why would Bob blackmail you into... breaking into his apartment?
Because it wasn't Bob.
It was us.
It was copies... of us.
And I... I think
that somehow, somewhere,
those copies are now loose in Infinity.
Oh...
Yeah, it's a lot to take in.
Can you locate them?
No. You can't. It's not-- You can't do that without player tags.
Nanette, I need you to locate them. So how do we do it?
Maybe if I had access to Daly's home computer,
but that's, like, in the bottom of a landfill now, right?
Oh, unless it's not.
- Ow. - Sit still.
- I am. - So sit stiller.
It's kind of a repetitive view.
Because it's a looping animation to give the player something to watch
while the next location loads in the background.
Oh, I didn't know that.
He's told you, like, 17 times.
Well, it didn't sink in.
Maybe if you paid attention, you'd know what a party invite was.
Well, maybe you-- - We wouldn't have almost died.
Guys!
Okay, listen, I get it. We are all a little on edge.
But if you are gonna take a swing at anyone, take a swing at me.
- I led us here. - Hey, you don't have to--
And I really hoped that I could find a way out of this, but I... haven't.
And I can't see a way out.
We could always throw ourselves out of the airlock.
I've got an idea.
What if we flew back into Daly's computer? Right?
Even if we were psychotic enough to want to do that, it's not possible.
- Why? - Daly's bubble universe got deleted.
And even if it hadn't been, the wormhole was temporary.
It'd all still be sealed off. Okay, then it's sealed off.
Well, I'm trying. I'm throwing an idea out there.
Yeah.
Oh my God.
- Oh my God. - That's your Eureka face.
Yeah.
Okay, Daly had his own private development build of Infinity
on his computer where he could do what he wanted.
- Like you said, it was sealed off? - Correct.
Okay, so why don't we just do what he did?
You mean...
I mean, correct me if I'm wrong,
but if we can access the game's source code,
we can compile a private development build
of a whole universe of our own, right?
- Using cloud storage onto virtual servers? - Yes, yes, yes.
Then all we'd have to do is cut and paste ourselves across the, um...
Sorry. Cut, paste? So we could just go someplace else?
Yeah, we would enter a... a secure and private and infinite universe,
and then we could just shut the door behind us.
There'd be no more credits, no more other players, no more threats.
It would just be us, and we'd be safe.
Okay, so how do we access this, uh, source code?
In the game, it manifests as this.
- Karl, move. - Okay.
Okay.
The Heart of Infinity, an engine at the center of the universe
that creates and maintains the whole thing.
Okay, so let's go.
Getting there is not the problem. It's getting inside.
Only two people can access the core, and one of them is Robert Daly.
Who's dead.
And the other one's Walton.
Double dead.
Yeah, but not in the real world.
The clone of Walton died, but the original Walton is still alive,
so why don't we contact him and persuade him to help us?
We're illegal clones in his company's game.
We get discovered, the feds throw him in jail.
Great. So no Walton, no hope.
Shall we, uh, revisit the airlock idea?
Goddamn it.
It's not like we could go looking through his stuff for clues.
His room's completely empty.
Sorry, what's empty?
His room. It's completely empty.
Walton can't have a room on this ship.
He has a room. It's... it's one floor below mine.
Why are you guys looking at me weird? Is something on my face?
Okay. - This is all of Daly's stuff?
His heart stopped, ownership transferred to the company.
So, legally, it's my stuff.
And it's mostly just Comic-Con garbage, but I know that one of these is... yeah.
Yeah.
- That's his computer. - Yeah, keep up.
- Can you get the cables out of the box? - Cables? Okay.
Fetching you cables now?
See? No Walton. No nothing.
Mm.
Okay. Wait. When we passed through the wormhole, the ship reset itself.
With generic living quarters assigned to every player alive.
But Walton burned up before we passed through.
He shouldn't have a room at all.
Unless he's still alive.
How? He burned up in the jet.
What if one tiny piece of Walton got carried through the wormhole in our wake?
Like one toenail, even.
Even if just one scorched atom of James Walton
somehow got caught up in our slipstream and followed us through.
Outside the ship, loose in space.
Enough to make him respawn as a new player.
Where do new players spawn when they start?
Not on a ship. A whole new planet!
Can you translate for those who don't speak machine code?
Walton is still in the game, and I know how to find him.
Okay. Everything has been wiped from within. Almost everything.
It's like it ate itself. But I have the crash log,
which proves that there were clones on Daly's computer.
And I've got names.
There's you and me and Shania and Kabir and Elena and Nate and Karl.
Who's Karl?
Okay, let me start up the game.
This is just a hunch,
but I think that if I can find a planet that spawned at the same exact time
that his, um, system failed...
Oh. Yeah. Okay, I found one.
We left Daly's computer at one minute to midnight on Christmas Eve.
If we find a new planet that was created at that moment...
- Got one! - Okay, that's where he is!
- Set sail, Nate! - Yes, ma'am!
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Walton.
Nice nipples.
It's me. It's Nanette.
Nanette Cole.
From the Callister.
Oh my God. You came for me. Hey!
Oh! It just feels so good to squeeze.
Okay, let's... let's get you back on the ship.
- Oh shit. - Yeah.
- We can go back on the ship? - Yes.
- We can catch up there, okay? - Oh my God. Wait.
- Yeah, no. Let's go. - I can't leave without Rocky.
Oh, who's Rocky?
Okay.
All right. I've entered the coordinates.
We're gonna go in.
Okay. How do we do this?
- You don't know how to play your game? - No.
- I read. - Just do what I do.
Enter game.
Oh, that's fun.
Um...
Enter game as well.
Oh shit.
Oh shit, this is so realistic.
Holy...
I have a blaster?
It has been so wild.
One moment, I was just burning alive in the thrusters,
and then the next moment, I just appeared out there.
- Mm-hmm. - All alone.
- For a very long time. - Yeah.
With only Rocky to keep me company.
Only Rocky to keep me sane.
Wanna say hi?
He's nice.
I'll pack up.
Hmm. Rocky's got a hole in the back.
Really? I hadn't noticed.
Don't drop him on his face!
I don't need to hear that. We've got to go.
- Get Rocky. - And this.
- You can bring one skin. - Okay.
Oh my God! Oh my God!
Oh.
It's us! It's us.
I mean, it's... it's them.
Oh my God. What am I wearing?
Not enough.
Wrap it up, ticktock. - Okay. I'm just gonna...
- I look so... capable. - Mm.
Okay, so how do you wanna do this?
Want me to kill your clone, then you kill mine?
- What? No. - Oh my God, you're right.
It would be so much more cathartic if we kill ourselves.
- No. What? We're not gonna kill anybody. - Then why are we here?
Oh Jesus.
- Oh my God. - Come on out.
Hi.
Don't shoot. I, uh...
I come in peace.
Okay. I come in peace.
Oh my God. Hi.
Do you need a hand? What?
No, no, no.
Hi. It's me.
I mean... Uh, I... I'm you.
No, you're you. I'm me.
Yeah, but I'm the real you.
That's subjective.
Uh, why are you here?
Oh, uh...
- Okay, we just wanna talk. - Who's we?
Yeah.
Yo, namaste.
What's up, nerds?
Drop it!
Oh, yeah, of course. Don't even know why I had it. Didn't ask for it.
Uh, wow, that's a... that's a big pink gun.
Glad I'm keeping trim.
...all this.
Okay, so one more time. Not that I care, but... who's mad at who?
Marlo is mad at Kenya, who threatened to call the cops on her.
Monyetta is mad at Marlo for trying to slam a door in her face.
- What? - The door was heavy.
Oh. They're teleporting back.
Do you think Walton has an extra helmet I can borrow?
That's strange.
You hit duplicate by mistake?
Uh...
I missed you guys so much.
Walton fixed the thrusters, and then he got incinerated.
So we made it through the wormhole, leaving Daly behind... to die.
Sorry. I... I'm who led us out of there?
Like, I'm... the captain?
You know, you being shocked by that does us both a disservice,
but yeah.
Right.
Um, and so why are you guys robbing people?
Because, thanks to me, or... you,
um, aren't you... aren't you safe now?
Naive you is so adorable.
When we were trapped on Daly's computer, we only had to deal with one sociopath.
- Now we've got a universe full of them. - Ready to kill us at any time.
Right. That's...
Awful? That's what you were gonna say?
Yeah, that is what I was gonna say.
- And I'm so-- - No, no. Stop, stop.
Don't, don't, don't say, "I'm sorry." I always used to say that.
- Don't say that. - But I... but I am... I am sorry.
You know, I had no idea that this was happening--
Well, how... how could you?
I mean, you have been... been enjoying your life.
Our life, really.
Well, I... I wouldn't say that I've been enjoying my life, actually.
- It's been rough. - Your life's been rough?
- Well, yeah. I mean, you blackmailed me-- - We had no other choice.
You forced me to break into Daly's apartment--
- You know we get shot at? - That's not my fault.
Nanettes, hey, calm down. When arguing, one at a time, please.
Okay, look. [sighs] You know, we have been staying under the radar.
Yeah. I get it.
Um, you're illegal.
But now you know that we exist.
Of course, we'll do anything to help.
We need access to the Heart of Infinity.
Yes. The game engine?
Okay. Well, Mr. Walton needs to give permission for that.
- But you can do that, right? - Uh, wrong.
Whoo!
- Fuck! - Stop! What are you doing? Stop!
They're illegal.
No, no, they're human! Stop!
Please, it's a fucking game!
Holy shit!
Oh man.
- No! - That's awesome.
Hey.
Wait! No, no, no!
Oh, that is real.
Where'd that thing go?
Where's the nubbin?
I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.
I didn't know... Oh my God. I didn't know that he was gonna do that.
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.
I didn't... I...
I didn't know. I'm so sorry.
Where the fuck is that nubbin?
Sorry.
You have to go. You have to stop him from coming back! Just go!
Exit game!
Hey.
Ow! Goddamn it!
Ow! You work for me. What the fuck?
You murdering piece of shit!
They're not humans.
- Come on. - Neither are you.
Hey, give me that. Where are you going?
Hey! I need your help!
To get back in! To get the f-- the other--
Fuck!
Wait! Fucking...
Listen, you may not like it, but we have to get rid of them.
You don't get to tell me what to do. I quit.
- We're both implicated. Let's... - It's your company, not mine.
You were in Daly's apartment the night he died. There'll be evidence.
- So what? - So? What if that reporter finds out?
- Maybe he should. - Just talk to me.
- Don't touch me. - Okay.
We both have shit to lose, Nanette.
Walk away or I call him right now. Kris El Masry, I have his--
- Gimme the phone. No! - Hey! Just... Don't!
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
I'm begging you. Okay?
I'm gonna lose everything.
And I can't find them without you, so please, help me.
Okay, how much you want? 100K?
Two hundred?
You are pathetic.
Two fifty? Two seventy-five.
And don't even think--
Is she okay?
Somebody call an ambulance.
Oh my God, is she okay? Somebody call 911.
Hey... hey, you should call somebody. Do you have a phone? Call somebody.
Jesus.
What happened with Karl,
it's not your fault.
We both know that's not true.
So what you're saying is, you rescued me because
you can't enter the Heart of Infinity without me?
Uh-huh.
Oh.
Uh...
Also, we missed you.
Great.
- She still out there? - Mm-hmm.
What?
You're disgusting.
That wasn't me. That was the other me. That's the outside world me. He sucks.
I know.
Okay, so why am I disgusting?
Because ball sack visible.
Oh sh...
I'm gonna go... and... put more clothes on,
clean up, and have a shave.
My God, I look amazing in this outfit.
Oh, hey, Nanette.
Um...
- I have to tell you something. - Yeah, shoot.
You wanna get into the Heart of Infinity, right?
It's the only way we'll be safe.
Okay. You need to know what's in there.
It's the source code, right?
Not exactly.
What do you mean?
Let's do it over a drink.
Uh, this is something I've never told anyone before.
Twelve years ago...
that's when it all began.
Okay, just stay in the car. This won't take long.
I was young and hungry, objectively sexy,
and I was high on my dad's trust fund,
just looking for shit to invest in.
And then I got this tip about this genius coder
who was doing something groundbreaking.
Hey.
Hi. Uh...
Sorry, I spilled my chocolate milk.
Oh, you sure did. That's fun. Hmm.
- Are you... - James Walton, yeah.
- We talked on the phone. You're, uh... - Robert Daly.
- Yes, sir. - That's right.
You kinda look more like a Bob to me.
Mind if I call you Bob?
Sure.
I hear you got something to show me.
Do you wanna see it?
I would love to.
Thank you.
Bob's garage was just what you'd expect.
A shrine to his one singular obsession.
I'll just get it booted up.
Ah shit.
- Do you need a license for this badass? - Careful.
That is a real Bargradian cutlass.
Okay.
Commander Scarfax won it in battle.
Don't know what that means.
- It's from Space Fleet. The TV show? - Mm-hmm. Oh.
It was way ahead of its time.
That sounds... fun.
Felt like they created a whole universe for that series,
and it made me wanna try and do the same.
And they say I have a God complex.
Just let me put this here.
- Wow. - Does that feel okay?
This won't take long.
- Ready? - Sure.
Three, two, one.
I had never seen anything like it.
It was totally groundbreaking.
And I could see right away that... Bob was a genius.
Oh my God.
Oh shit. Fuck. It felt like I was on an actual planet, man.
It's... it's pretty immersive, huh?
Where's the gameplay? What do you do? When do I get to... to shoot people, or...
What I'm going for is... is... is more of an experience, really, than a game.
Okay, that's fun, I guess.
But, Bob, if you can roll this out for online play,
that is a fuck ton of gold.
That's not really what Space Fleet was about.
Fuck Space Fleet.
With respect. I say that with the utmost respect.
But, Bob, this is our IP.
- How many planets do you have? - Right now, four.
Okay, we're gonna need, like, I don't know... 50 before launch.
Bob, listen, we have to expand.
With more scale, we get more subscriptions.
Bob, Bob,
you said you wanted to create a universe.
Now is your chance, kid.
I... guess.
Yeah, it is.
So I moved into the garage with Bob,
and our startup started up.
Bob worked on the game, and I... worked on Bob.
Only nine planets?
We are so far behind target, Bob.
Can't you just write a routine that fucking auto-generates them?
Just shits them out. Planet, planet, planet.
I would still need to check each one personally.
So?
It's kind of impossible.
There's all the other systems I have to stay across,
and there's only one of me.
Hold that thought.
Before I met Bob,
I had invested in all kinds of new inventions.
Some worked.
Most didn't.
One thing never even made it to the market.
It came out of the porn industry,
and, uh, it was outlawed before we launched.
It was a DNA cloner.
Bingo.
It was designed to replicate people in VR.
So with a hair or a lip smear, you could create your very own
virtual sentient fuck buddy out of whoever you wanted.
You wanted to fuck Robert Daly?
No, no.
I wanted to duplicate him.
With a copy of Bob inside the code,
fused with the engine,
he could essentially work 24-7 in a time bubble.
Building the universe piece by piece.
And he agreed.
Whoa, whoa.
Are you saying there's a clone of Daly inside the game engine?
I'm saying I put a clone of Daly inside the game engine.
That's what's at the Heart of Infinity.
The whole spinny structure, that's fucking window dressing.
That's a distraction.
Inside there is Bob's enslaved consciousness,
unable to leave.
Just building out Infinity.
For infinity.
That's dark, man.
That's why the real you is so freaked.
The code his company rests on is an illegal clone con job.
She... yeah, she's in danger.
Who is?
Me.
The outside me. She has no idea who she's dealing with.
Will you call my outer world cell phone?
- We agreed. Never contact the outside. - Do it. Please.
Doctor, her phone's ringing.
Hello.
Uh, I'm... I'm calling for, um, Nanette Cole. Who's this?
Dr. Garcia, St. Juniper Hospital.
Are you a friend of Ms. Cole?
I'm... her... sister.
Is she okay?
I'm afraid Ms. Cole has been in an accident.
Uh-huh?
Is she, um...
How... how is she?
I think it's best if I speak to you face-to-face.
How soon can you get here?
I'm, uh, very far. I'm...
very far away.
Uh, can you just please... just tell me how she is?
She's in a very deep coma.
A coma?
We hooked her up to the temporal monitoring system
in case there's any uptick in cognitive function,
but she's suffered extensive brain trauma.
Even if she does regain consciousness,
we're not sure how much will be left of her.
I'm sorry.
I know you said you're some distance away,
but I think you need to come and say goodbye.
Tulaska, please end the call.
Hey, are you okay?
Dudani, set a course for the Heart of Infinity.
Hey, are you sure? Look, you just had a hell of a shock--
Just... just do it.
- Nanette-- - Now!
Oh...
Hello?
Hey, Kabir, it's me. Um...
I need help.
Yeah, that's why I quit.
I will give you a raise, okay?
Five thousand dollars.
Per month?
Yeah, yeah.
Yes, yes!
But I need your help first, okay? Just... just a little, um... tech support.
- At 4:00 a.m.? - Yeah.
Go on.
Say I'm playing Infinity, right?
You never play Infinity.
Say I was playing Infinity, and I got, I don't know, shot in the head
and kicked out of the game.
How do I get back in?
You kidding me? That's the most basic--
Just tell me how I do it! Sorry. Do... How?
You put your nubbin on, and you say "resume game."
Okay, and I pop up where?
Where were you when you got fragged?
- Fragged? - That means shot.
Oh, yeah. No, I know.
I was fragged on a ship.
So you'd just respawn on that ship.
On the same ship I was on?
Well, in your quarters, but yeah.
That's fantastic. That's so cool.
It's basic functionality.
Without quick resume, you'd have to search the galaxy.
- Kabir? - Yeah?
I have one more question.
Go on.
Okay, that shit's impressive.
If you like spinny bullshit.
It was designed to look awe-inspiring.
The more impressive it appears, the fewer questions people'd ask.
No one would suspect Bob was in there.
We can teleport only one of us in.
Walton just has to approve entry by placing his palm on the scanner.
I'm ready.
It's not like you're gonna go in there and just tap some keys.
Daly has been in there alone with godlike powers for years.
Just approve it.
Okay.
Dudani, send me in.
Teleporting.
Hey.
Hi.
Oh, uh...
I'm sorry.
Um...
I'm... I'm Robert Daly. What's your name?
Nanette.
Nanette Cole.
Well,
welcome.
Stop pacing.
- It's bad energy. - God knows what's going on down there.
Yeah, well, whatever it is, it's your fault.
Uh...
I'm gonna go meditate. Clear my head.
Yeah, you do that.
Could you tell me if she calls in?
That was mean.
So, Nanette, how did you get in here?
Only me and Mr. Walton can grant access.
He let me in.
- He did? - Mm-hmm.
Oh. Do you want one?
No, I'm okay.
Did he say when he might be stopping by? 'Cause I've got so much to show him.
I... I built a whole universe.
He didn't say.
Do you wanna sit?
Sorry about the mess.
The truth is, you're the only visitor I've had since I started.
I don't even know the way time works here.
It's maybe...
500 years?
But if Mr. Walton sent you, it must be very important.
It is.
He knows I'm here, but I actually came because I wanted to see you personally.
You did? Oh.
Why?
To ask you a favor.
Okay.
The thing is, I have every reason not to trust you.
Why?
Because I have met you before.
You mean out there?
Not exactly.
Well, what happened?
It's a, uh...
complex story.
I like stories.
Hey.
Go and apologize to him.
Hey, listen, man, about earlier, I--
Skim soy latte, no sugar.
Why did you give me a coffee order?
Uh...
I just... really like coffee.
You know in here I'm not the intern, right?
Of course.
So what's my first name?
Huh? What?
My first name.
What is it?
Neil?
- What the hell are you doing? - Nate, what the fuck?
- He's not Walton! - I am Walton.
He's not our Walton! Hey. Hey!
Where is he, huh? Where's our Walton?
Stop him!
He's not me.
Exit game.
Fuck you, coffee guy!
He hit me.
I hit me. Hit I.
I hit myself. It was awful.
Guys, I think he sent a mass invite.
What? Who to?
Everyone we've ever robbed.
Fuckers.
How do I watch you die?
All right, Kabir. Options.
Spectate.
Spectate...
Oh, hi, you guys.
Let's have it.
Enter game.
Inbound vessels.
Lots of them.
Shit!
Tulaska, ready the shields. Prep the thrusters.
Oh, you cheating bottomholes.
I'm ready to go.
I'm dead?
I mean, out there right now, I'm...
I'm dead?
Believe it or not, I can relate.
It sounds like I kind of deserved it.
I treated you guys real bad.
Yes, you did.
Man.
I'm so disappointed in myself.
What you described does not sound like me.
I'm a... I'm a nice guy.
- I am. - Mm-hmm.
So something must've made me behave like that.
Sometimes, I think Mr. Walton... exploited me.
- He did. - And he only really cares about himself.
Yeah, you're right.
Which is why I need that favor.
Remember?
Yes. Um...
You need me to transfer you and the crew of your ship
into a private universe on a secure cloud server
and then lock it off so it can never be found.
- Did I get that right? - Yes.
So will you help me?
Of course.
Whoo!
There's far too many of them!
Shields, 68%!
Uh...
- Increase power to shields. - That'll deplete our firepower!
- Trust me. Just do it! - Okay.
Everybody ready?
For what? We're going in!
You know, this is kind of like Clandestination.
Huh?
Clandestination. It's a classic Space Fleet episode.
The crew hides out in an alternate universe to evade Scarfax.
- He's the Bargradian commander. - Okay, right.
You haven't seen it?
I'm not really into old shows, no.
But it sounds great.
Oh, it is.
Man, it was ahead of its time.
- Dodge it, Packer! - I am doing my best!
No!
This'll do it.
Now all we've gotta do is pop this into the drive,
and you're good to go.
Oh my God.
Thank you.
Thank you so much.
- But I have a question for you. - Sure.
Wouldn't you rather just leave?
What?
God!
Look out!
No, no, no!
Yes!
Um, you said the outside you is in a coma, right? Which hospital?
Uh, St. Juniper.
Gotcha.
Yep, I thought so.
They've got you hooked up to a cerebral monitor
to log any cognitive signs,
which means we could just send you back there.
- Back there? - Back into your old head.
- So I could go back home? - Sure.
The you out there is kind of
brain-dead. I'm sorry about that.
But if we copy you across,
your consciousnesses would merge,
and your experiences would fuse, and you'd be...
- Back in my body? Back in my life? - Mm-hmm.
Here.
- And we can do both? - Uh-uh.
You're digitally tethered to the ship.
So if you exit into your old body,
that ship gets wiped.
And the crew...
Would be wiped too.
So it really is one or the other.
Which one do you want?
I want...
Any word from Nanette?
Negative.
Incoming, coming in hot!
Brace, brace, brace!
This is how we die!
Oh bollocks! Jonathan!
Oh, fuck off, Mam!
So what's it to be?
Save you?
Or... save them?
Um... Uh...
Now, this is like Quandary at Outpost 5.
The Xanthians force Captain Storm
to choose between saving his crew or saving himself.
Save the crew.
- Are you sure? - Yeah, yeah, yeah.
- They would never know. - Just... just do it.
That's what Captain Storm did too.
Mm-hmm.
And, of course,
it turned out it was all just a test.
The Xanthians wanted to see
how noble he was, and when he answered correctly,
they revealed that there had been another choice all along.
Save everyone.
- You said you couldn't do that. - I know.
I had to pretend I couldn't so we could role-play the whole Space Fleet thing.
It's kind of funny how convinced you were.
Yeah.
Anyways, let's copy and paste.
Cut and paste.
Huh?
You're transferring us, so it's cut and paste. It's not copy.
- Copy's fine. - No. No, no, no. No.
Because this universe is... is dangerous,
and any copies that are left here will be hunted down and killed.
No, not... not yours.
Why not?
Because she would be in here with me.
- With you? - Mm-hmm.
I would let her stay. I would treat her good.
No funny stuff.
Unless she wanted, maybe.
- But I wouldn't... I wouldn't hurt her. - Yes, you would.
- No, I wouldn't. - Bob, you would.
I know that you don't think that now,
but the power that you wield
is not a good fit for you.
I'm a nice guy.
- I'm a nice guy. - I understand that you feel that way.
Look, I make stuff
all day, every day,
and it's beautiful.
- I think it is. - Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.
But it's, like, it's all I do,
and... and... and I don't even have anyone to show it to.
Okay, well, I... I hear that, Bob, but--
I can't even leave.
The whole thing deletes if I try to leave.
Now you said I'm not even alive out there.
So this is all there is left of me, just this,
all alone for all of eternity.
Bob, I'm... I'm so sorry that you're lonely.
And I... It's... None of this has been fair, okay?
- But you have to understand. - Just stop.
- You can't expect me to agree, right? - Please stop. Please stop!
- Please just start-- - I said stop!
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. No! No, no, no!
You wanted to play with Pixie, huh?
I can't shake her!
Ooh! Twisty bugger!
I'm not a bad person.
That... that hurt my feelings.
I... I don't wanna hurt you.
I just wanted to be friends, and I wanted you to stay.
I... I don't wanna hurt you.
I really... I just wanted you to stay.
I swear, I'm a nice guy, okay?
Kill switch activated.
Deleting.
What's happening?
The Heart's collapsing.
What the hell is going on here?
No!
Fuck!
Which one? Which one?
She's locking on missiles!
Yeah, girl. Do it. Fucking do it! Fucking do it!
No, no, no! Label your discs, asshole!
- Shields, 0%. - One more hit and we're done.
Bedtime for youse.
Fingers crossed.
Oh my God! Stupid fucking retro shit!
No, no, no!
Fucking no!
Incoming missile!
Fuck yeah!
Yeah!
What is that? Why are you doing that?
Are we... are we dead? Wait. You guys, do I... do I sound dead?
Not especially.
Hey, is...
is... is this the bubble universe?
Where are stars?
What is this, some kind of nebula? Where the hell are we?
- I don't know. There are no coordinates. - Shut up. Do... do you guys hear that?
What is that?
What the heck?
Man!
Calm down, miss!
That is a fucking giant.
Guys, I think I need some help in here!
Ow!
- Nate, please stop this from happening. - It's not responding!
Can we talk to her?
Tulaska, call her cell.
Yeah.
Tulaska, call her cell!
Patching through. Patching through.
Hello?
Hey.
- What the hell just happened? - Nate?
Nate, is that you?
- Hey, girl. - Hey.
Are you... are you all there?
- Yeah. - Yes.
- Yes. We're all here. - Don't worry.
Oh my God!
Thank God you made it!
You are never gonna believe where I am!
A hospital bathroom.
Yeah, actually. Yes, yeah.
Oh boy.
How did you know that?
What now?
Hey, uh, what does "fatal content error 606" mean?
606?
No, no. That can't be right. Are you sure it says...
Fatal content error 606 is right in my fucking face!
What does it mean?
- Hello? Fuck! - What the fuck?
It means the game's been deleted.
- What? From my computer? - No, no.
From the server. It looks like some kind of kill switch.
It's wiped everything.
The entire game and all the backups.
The whole of Infinity is gone.
This was the scene as former Infinity CEO James Walton
was arrested today after three months on the run.
Joining us is New York Times reporter Kris El Masry.
Kris, you broke this story. What's the deal here?
Yeah, according to my anonymous source,
Mr. Walton's facing a litany of charges, really.
Fraud, digital human rights abuse,
embezzlement, failure to report an accident.
I mean, the list is endless.
Walton looks pissed.
All right, my head. I got it. I fucking got it. Ow!
Fuck you.
Oh, did you see that?
Is funny.
Yeah, it's a laugh riot.
I'm sorry, but I am enjoying your downfall.
Your joy brings me joy, Kabir. Hey, Nanette.
Is there any progress
on the whole extracting us from your fucking head situation?
Yeah, I'm working on it.
Yeah, you working hard? Diligently?
Mm-hmm, yeah. I'm working on some notes and stuff.
- Oh, a new episode just dropped. - Oh, thank God.
Okay, Nanette, it is time for our show.
No. They're about to interview this lawyer. No.
It's the deal. We close our eyes when you go to the bathroom.
Or change clothes. Sleep with Tinder date.
In exchange, you let us watch our show.
- So, if you please? - Okay, fine.
This season on The Real Housewives of Atlanta.
My roots are in Atlanta,
but my branches are worldwide.
Forget the gaslight. I'm taking the spotlight.
Wait. Which one was having the affair?
The one on the left.
Who was that with? The one on the right.
Okay, and that's... the argumentative one? Shut up!
Shut up. Shut up.
"Shut up, Captain." I'm captain now. Fuck you.
Whatever.
Fuck you, Captain.