♪♪
[ Dramatic music plays ]
[ Thunder rumbles ]
♪♪
[ Thematic music plays ]
♪♪
[ Thunder crashes in distance ]
Bugger off!
It was carriages at midnight.
[ Grunts ]
Apologies for the mess.
Scott was here till very late.
[ Thunder crashes ]
Oh, how very droll.
No!
What more did you expect of me?
At least I turned up.
I was there.
I beat the Boer, not you.
You are the bloody bore.
Where were you at the Somme, eh? Passchendaele?
Not my favorite memories, but I was there.
I did what I had to do there to get the bloody job done,
and I did it in your name
and that of my Sovereign,
the head of your bloody Church, you bastard.
Visit me night after night.
Haunt my wife,
if that is what you've been reduced to.
Merely the Holy Ghost now?
My wife'd love it.
-[ Knocks on door ] -Is that you?
No, of course not.
When have you ever bothered to knock?
-Apologies, General. -Yes?
Sorry to have woken you, but it's been raining,
and it's very dark out there.
Generator in this section must be out.
I'm a little bit lost.
Of course, come in. Come in.
ST. JOHN: Thank you.
[ Door closes ]
Truth is, I don't handle mornings
all that well at the best of times.
CRANKY: You have my sympathies.
Not the cleverest of sleepers myself.
Actually, good you've come.
One of the chappies delivered me a telecable
just before I went to bed.
Excellent news.
-Really, sir? -Yes.
It seems Rupee's been made permanent secretary
to the Foreign Office.
Isn't that wonderful?
[ Thunder rumbles ]
We'll miss the old bugger, of course.
Won't be turning up here any time soon.
But I expect this will place you in rather high office.
One mustn't assume, sir.
But one has one's hopes, as I've said.
There's no specific mention of me?
Uh, no.
But you're more than welcome to stay here, old chap,
at least until your grand future is settled.
That's very kind of you, sir.
[ Electricity crackles ]
Ah! There we go.
Let there be light
and all that nonsense.
Is it too early for breakfast, do you think?
I'm in a rather urgent need of some eggs
and a couple of Swanny's patented Bloody Marys.
[ Chuckles ]
[ In Yankunytjatjara ] You've seen yourself before, Mum.
[ In Yankunytjatjara ] The thing is...
I looked a lot younger last time I saw myself.
[ Chuckles ]
You look beautiful now.
Nah. Before. Years ago.
[ Chuckles ]
CRANKY: Morning, chef!
DOUG: Sir, good morning.
We know it's not quite opening hours,
but Mr. Moore here and I were feeling a bit peckish.
Of course, sir.
We're here to serve, sir.
Of course. Excellent.
[ Coughing ]
Sir, it might --
[ Whimsical music plays ]
Why didn't you tell me we have guests?
How delightful.
Good morning, everyone!
Welcome!
Well, my dear lady,
how lovely it is to see you again.
May we join you?
ST. JOHN: Where's Swanny?
Ah, yes, indeed.
Chef, fetch Swanny immediately, will you?
We're in need of Bloody Marys, and service.
Yes, sir.
Swanny!
You know,
we do have a first-rate Officers' Mess.
We may be more comfortable in there.
Well, it's -- [ Scoffs ] it's not La Tour d'Argent.
[ Chuckles ] But it does have bottom-friendly chairs.
Of course, if you feel more comfortable in here,
then here we shall stay.
Chef!
[ Reporters shout indistinctly, camera shutters clicking ]
WILCOX: What a great day for the nation!
JOURNALIST: And, sir, uh, one question
regarding previous tests.
Have the tests been successful so far?
WILCOX: Good morning, gentlemen!
What a great day!
What's happened? Is there news?
Oh, yes, indeed, there is, sir.
Good news? -No, sir.
-Bad news and worse news. -Mm-hmm.
Dr. Ratchett has passed away.
Oh, God.
How?
Uh, no idea.
Dr. Lloyd-George found him last night.
[ Jeep doors open, close ]
[ Whimsical music plays ]
There's worse news?
There's word that the General is
currently having breakfast on the floor of the Mess Kitchen
with the Aborigines we met the other night.
How did that happen?
Sir, the mess is due to open in half an hour.
Sir, please?
In half an hour's time, 600 soldiers,
two of the government's most senior cabinet ministers,
and the entire National Press Corps
are gonna be demanding breakfast,
and the General will be there on the kitchen floor,
-eating with the Blacks. -But the General's my superior,
and I literally can't speak to the Blacks.
-But Dalgleish can. -Yeah.
So, what use is he a hundred miles away?
He isn't a hundred miles away, sir.
-He's here in the camp. -What?
The General went on a tour with Dalgleish yesterday.
It was the General's idea.
-[ Sighs ] -He seems to like the Blacks.
I'm aware.
[ Engine starts ]
♪♪
EVA: My poor, sad darling Prof.
CORINNE: Are you alright?
[ Voice breaking ] I'm okay.
[ Stifled sobs ]
Tragic business. Doctor, Nurse.
These need to be signed by the General or Carmichael.
Been up for hours with them.
Given me the most frightful head.
Was there a note?
Um, I didn't think to look.
I didn't see.
I'll have a rummage.
I know how he organizes things.
-Organized. -LEWIS: In the old days,
notes usually made life easier with suicides,
coronially speaking.
But we live in strange times.
The Army will have its own inquest.
Secret, of course.
And will make its own findings.
We are but minions,
poor players, nurse, remember.
-Rounds at eight? -Yes, Doctor.
I'll see you then, and make sure Carmichael
signs those before 5:00.
Yes, Doctor.
[ Static, feedback ]
[ Door opens, closes ]
-Dalgleish! -Oooh!
Carmichael?
Oof! Ooh, now's not a good time, mate.
LEO: You are needed.
Oh, you're officially fuckin' warned.
Jesus, Cranky can put it away.
Man of his age. Fuckin' champion.
As we speak, there are some Blacks having breakfast with him
on the floor of the mess kitchen.
You didn't bring them with you, did you?
Blacks in the mess? Fuckin' idiot do you think I am?
-Then how did they get here? -Mate, they're fucking nomadic.
-They fuckin' walked! -How could you let this happen?
It's your job to protect the perimeter from the Blacks --
for the Blacks.
Because I'm one man
in a fuckin' truck,
patrolling an area greater
than the size of fuckin' Britain!
-Get up. -Yeah, fuck off!
-Get up now! -[ Groans ]
Unless this situation is quickly defused,
there will be a shitstorm of epic proportions.
Feel free to do your worst to me.
I'm talking about what could happen to the Blacks.
[ Dramatic music plays ]
♪♪
[ Voice breaking ] I think he was murdered.
What do you mean, murdered?
He hanged himself.
-I found him. -No.
He knew something.
He knew everything.
That's why he's dead.
I mean, don't you know the trick to surviving this place is
to know as little as you possibly can?
I mean, how on earth could Lewis come in here with a report
ready to be signed about someone's death
before he's even seen the body?
I bet you all the money that I have
against all the money you have
that he put it down as a myocardial infarction.
How do I know that?
Because it's what he always does.
It's always a heart attack.
It's how death signs its name here.
Nothing ever goes wrong at Maralinga
because everyone's too scared to say that something's gone wrong.
If they do... they have heart attacks.
[ Sniffles ]
If you do find a note, and, um...
I'm mentioned in it,
there'll be questions.
Why would you worry about being mentioned?
Because you were lovers?
It'll raise suspicion.
EVA: Suspicion of what?
If they find out that I was Quentin's lover,
there's really only two courses open to them.
How do you mean?
They'll either send me to Adelaide,
or I'll have a heart attack.
What happens in Adelaide?
I'll have a heart attack.
♪♪
-LEO: Shit. -DALGLEISH: Oh.
So, it turns out an army does march on its stomach.
-Who'd have thought? -LEO: Okay. We're on.
It's all smiles, Dally.
[ Indistinct conversations ]
LACHLAN: Christ, Carmichael.
Where have you been? I'm starving.
Ministers, this is Sergeant Roy Dalgleish.
Sergeant, how do you do?
Dick Wilcox.
LACHLAN: And Phil Lachlan.
-What do you do? -I'm your border rider.
-And what does that mean? -It means --
That's...not...
important right now, Attorney.
Let me be perfectly frank with you.
A problem has arisen with --
DALGLEISH: Wee problem in the kitchen.
-Yes, it's -- -The generator.
Yes, it's the bloody genny.
They're playing up all over the camp. It must be the rain.
I'll just check in with the kitchen.
-Won't be long. -We'll come with you.
You're more than welcome to, sir,
but if you come in and the men can't,
it may not look too good, what with the press here.
I'm sure you wouldn't want to be seen
to be giving preferential treatment,
which, of course, you'd refuse.
-Quite. -LEO: As I say,
I won't be a moment. Thank you for your patience.
Fellas, may need some admin assistance here.
Yes, sir.
JOURNALIST: Excuse me, Ministers.
Brief shot over here. Thank you.
I want a piece of this.
CRANKY: I say, Leo!
Look who's dropped in.
Yes, I see, sir.
[ In Yankunytjatjara ] Oh, look, it's Orange.
He's bloody everywhere, isn't he?
It's what they pay me to do Ruby.
Listen. You fellas can't be here right now.
I'm sorry.
Why not? It's our land Orange.
Because at the moment, they think it's their land,
and they've got the guns, Sam.
We've lost our nephews.
They were with a white girl.
What were they doing with a white girl?
She was in trouble.
Nothing to do with us, though, Orange.
Tom and Billy were bringing her back here.
[ In English ] There were two young lads.
They were bringing a white girl back here.
Did a nurse go missing?
CRANKY: Lads?
What lads?
He knows something!
She says you know something.
We have no missing nurses.
I've never seen any young Black blokes.
[ In Yankunytjatjara ] He says he's never seen them.
The clouds are from here, right?
She keeps saying this.
The word "nungarli" keeps coming up.
What does it mean, Dally?
She seems so anxious when she says it.
The word means "cloud," sir.
Sir, I have no idea what she's talking about.
Explain to them as clearly as you bloody can, Dally,
that we haven't seen any black lads or a while girl,
and that, for their own good, they have to leave.
Why? Why do they have to leave?
I reckon he's full of shit. -LEO: If the Attorney General
and Defense Minister are seen with them by the press,
I can't even imagine the worst of it.
For their sake, please.
[ Clears throat ]
[ In Yankunytjatjara ] The thing is, this place here,
These buildings belong to...
[ In English] Jesus, th-they don't have a word
for government.
[ In Yankunytjatjara ] I'm sure you want
to go back to your home.
-Leo! -Sir...
we've been through this.
Please, there's no time.
RUBY: It's very simple!
Show us our nephews, or we won't go home.
What -- what's she saying, Dally?
It is the policy of both governments
that these people do not exist.
If they are seen in this place --
I don't understand.
These are human beings right here,
in front of our very eyes.
Clearly, they exist.
If I may.
Major Carmichael does have a point, sir.
From a government's perspective,
these people aren't and never have been here.
We have to travel them back, sir.
The longer they remain here,
the more risky it will become for them.
Oh, very well.
[ Dalgleish interprets ]
It seems to me,
you need us to leave more than we need to leave.
They'll kill you.
They're killing us anyway.
You're the ones with the problem.
We will only leave
if you tell us what happened to my nephews.
[ In English ] They'll leave if we tell 'em what happened
-to their boys. -I-I-I...
I don't know what else to add.
Leo! For Christ's sake.
I'm looking in your face, man, and I can see that you know.
Now tell them what happened.
That's an order.
[ Dramatic music plays ]
♪♪
We made a big cloud that night.
Your nephews and the white girl were too close to it.
I'm so sorry.
The cloud is very powerful.
[ Dalgleish interprets ]
You killed them!
I don't understand
what you're doing.
But we shall leave,
yet we shall not forget.
What's this all about, Dally?
[ In English ] They've agreed to leave, sir.
Really? Why?
Why would they do that?
It's in everyone's best interests, sir.
She understands that.
Take them to wherever they call home.
CRANKY: I don't understand, Leo.
-We made the cloud, did we not? -LEO: Perhaps, sir,
but they're still safer in their own land.
[ Tense music plays ]
So...
how do we get them out safely when there's a crowd outside?
[ Indistinct conversations in distance ]
We just have to get rid of the crowd, I guess.
LEO: I've been given information by acting chief meteorologist
Doctor Lloyd-George, to which, I've no option but to respond.
Uh, weather patterns have radically changed
with an unexpected easterly front
moving rapidly towards us that could affect the utility
and meaning, perhaps, even the safety of this test.
So we have to pull the test forward five hours.
There's no need for a tower in this test
as the bomb just has to be loaded onto a plane.
So, the order is for my people,
every man to his station.
Catering will supply food on the run.
For our visitors, we will be supplying
a very rare and extensive
tour of the camp
with unlimited photographic opportunities.
-[ Reporters murmur ] -That is all for now.
Good luck.
Murph, Jonesy, and Hilly are the tour guides.
-They're not gonna like it. -There's a shock.
Are you fucking kidding me, Carmichael?
-No breakfast? -Easy, Phil. Press.
This is not an auspicious start to our relationship, Leo.
What would you have me do about the weather, Minister?
However risky it may be, press-wise,
I could get the kitchen
to deliver some trays to your respective quarters.
I don't give a stuff about the press.
-I'm hungry. -Jesus, Phil.
Attorney, can we please have a shot of you with these men?
WILCOX: Absolutely.
Now, you listen to me, you little shit.
I'm the fuckin' Defense Minister.
I run the army.
So, at this point in time, I don't give a damn
about generators or easterly breezes
or Doctor Lloyd-Frankincense and Myrrh.
I want some decent food, and I want it now.
You'll get what you're given, Minister,
when and if I decide to give it to you,
because I don't give a damn about any of your appetites.
-I beg your pardon? -Are you that stupid?
This is Maralinga, remember?
You know the drill. This is my town.
I've seen the photos of you and Molly, Phil.
Then you had ASIO try to break her neck.
Break her neck? Why would I want to do that?
-I-Is she okay? -Don't try to bullshit me, Phil.
I'm not bullshitting you.
She rang through to my Parliamentary office
and threatened me with blackmail.
Now ASIO listens to every phone call
a Cabinet Minister gets.
They make their own laws, Leo.
I don't care. The photos are out there.
So, here's how things are going to work out for you today.
First, you shut up about your fuckin' breakfast.
Second, you'll tell Wilcox that you should both go
on a tour of the camp.
You know, great photo op.
The camp?
Three hours in a Jeep inspecting dust and craters?
And right on cue,
your tour guides appear, Minister.
[ Dramatic music plays ]
ANNOUNCER: Look who's here, out in the desert --
the Attorney General and the Defense Minister.
doing their bit in the dust and dirt
to support our boys,
our vital nuclear effort.
Here's Dick Wilcox,
having a bit of a scrub before dinner.
Mother would be proud.
And there's the Attorney again,
getting the shave of a lifetime.
Again, the tests transcend
the boundaries of modern science
but some are, of course, more special than others.
Doctor.
Terrible news about Professor Ratchett.
Apparently, he didn't take his own life, after all.
Seems I was mistaken when I loosened the rope
around his neck because, according to Doctor Lewis,
it was just a heart attack.
But that wouldn't come as a surprise to you, would it?
Quentin's on the slab if you're here to pay your respects.
-I came to see you, actually. -Why?
I just told the camp that the test has been moved forward
six hours owing to a change in the weather
and that it was solely at your demand
as acting chief meteorologist.
Accordingly, the men have been sent to their stations.
Okay.
May I ask why you did this fucking idiotic thing
which totally compromises me?
I needed to buy some time.
You wanted to buy some time
by bringing forward a nuclear test?
Interesting.
Buy some time for what?
Okay.
If 600 soldiers had entered that mess this morning,
not to mention the Attorney General,
Defense Minister, and national press,
they would have found Cranky on the kitchen floor,
eating with the Blacks we met the other night.
Cranky would be sectioned and sent off to an asylum.
I'll do a couple of years in Holdsworthy and lose my pension.
The place would be shut down.
Goodbye British nuclear ambitions.
And what do you think'll happen to the Blacks?
What?
Well, it's not gonna be a free ride back to country
on Dalgleish's truck.
These people are evidence, Doctor.
Living, human evidence.
-Evidence of what, Major? -Of life.
It'll be Official Secrets for them,
which means being lined up against a brick wall.
Pop, pop, pop.
And no one giving a rat's arse.
[ Scoffs ]
[ Tense music plays ]
♪♪
[ Coughs ]
♪♪
[ Truck doors close ]
[ Engine idling ]
♪♪
[ Door opens ]
Would you like a drink, sir?
Calvados is what I think is called for in this situation.
My tum's gone all knotty.
Swanny!
Tell me, chef. Do you believe in God?
Yes, of course, sir.
Are you aware that he and I speak
pretty much on a daily basis?
No, sir, wasn't aware.
You're keeping good company, sir.
CRANKY: Oh, I'm not so sure about that.
Usually speaks rot, between you and me.
I think he's a bored, regretful, burnt-out old has-been.
Should have been a politician,
not a deity.
Funnily enough, though,
it turns out he's not a big fan of our bombs.
-Sick to death of them, he says. -[ Door opens ]
One thing we have in common, actually.
Sir?
Calvados, Swanny.
A large one, if you please.
Very good, sir.
DOUG: If I may, sir.
Why are we... testing bombs out here?
You have a desert.
You are part of the Empire.
Can't test them in England, you know.
No telling who you might blow up,
though several names do spring to mind, eh? [ Chuckles ]
But who knows who you might blow up here, sir?
[ Dramatic music plays ]
Blow up here?
Who the devil are you talking about, man?
Well, like your guests earlier this morning.
They live out in the desert where we're bombing.
Sir.
We've sent them back out there.
Dally is driving them back out there even now as we speak.
They must be recalled.
The next bomb must be stopped.
Whole bloody shower has to stop.
That's an order, man! I require a salute.
Next test is today, sir.
-Today? -Dropping one from a plane.
Christ!
I need Leo.
-So, what do I get in return? -Really?
It's only fair. I want a favor in return.
What?
You have or have had a spy here.
You're MI6, then?
I'm a meteorologist working for the MOD,
on temporary secondment to MI6.
This is to do with Quentin?
-That's the current wisdom. -Jesus.
-You know who the spy is? -Yes.
I just need a little help with the procedural details.
Oh come on, Leo, we're on the same side.
What sort of help?
I'll tell you when you need to know.
[ Sighs ] Shit.
EVA: There has been a sudden and drastic drop in air pressure
over the southern Indian Ocean overnight.
If we wait until the current appointed time,
the effects of this drop in air pressure,
namely the strong and potentially chaotic winds
may strike us here,
possibly affecting the plane's trajectory,
its capacity to drop its payload,
and render any scientific data useless.
Have you considered the potential consequences
of bringing the test forward?
-Is the bomb ready? -Yes.
Then there are no potential consequences.
May I go on, uninterrupted?
BRESTON: Myer does have a point.
Why don't we just postpone
the whole thing for a few days, Leo?
Because as well as the nation's press,
the Attorney General and the Defense Minister are here,
and they're not leaving today without photos of them
standing in front of a mushroom cloud.
I've got the boys headed to their stations.
The plane's being fueled as we speak.
It's show time, gentlemen.
-So, you owe me. -Do I?
The spy is Corinne.
[ Laughs ]
That's just bloody silly.
If there is a spy, which by the way,
is just an assertion on your part,
I promise you, it's not Corinne.
-I'll prove it to you. -No, you won't.
They'll probably name the bomb after you, you know.
You must be very proud.
[ Tense music plays ]
♪♪
[ Retching ]
[ Wheezes, coughs ]
RUBY: Orange!
Sam is sick!
DALGLEISH: Wait! Wait!
Hold on!
♪♪
[ Switch clicks ]
[ Dramatic music plays ]
♪♪
QUENTIN: My darling chicken...
My darling chicken.
♪♪
My darling chicken,
I am drowning with guilt.
There is so much to which I have to confess.
ST. JOHN: How long have you been with him?
Since Kenya. '20.
DOUG: Rough?
[ Chuckles ] This is a picnic by comparison.
Oh, you've got to be kidding, Swanny.
That was actual war.
We were down to bayonets in Mombassa.
But the General was an inspiration.
Never looked out for himself.
Protected his men
and humiliated the enemy.
It was bloody,
but not by his choice.
♪♪
I think it better
to blow your enemy up from a distance.
Don't have to look them in the face, then.
Can you imagine what it must be like
to be blown up by an atomic bomb?
Gone in less than a second.
It must be the most painless death.
Lucky bastards.
Never thought of it that way, Mr. Moore
but I guess you're right.
That's Dalgleish's truck.
I guess the old boy would want to know. Sir?
-Sir? -What?
Who are you?
What is this place?
Sir, that's Dally's truck, remember?
Hey?
DOUG: There.
CRANKY: Dally's truck?
Of course.
He's bringing them back. My orders.
They went through, Swanny. Isn't that bloody marvellous!
Come with me, man.
♪♪
[ Indistinct announcement over PA ]
[ Dalgleish panting ]
[ Footsteps approach ]
What is it? What?
Family has a very sick lad.
Okay? He's coughing up blood.
He's a Black lad.
Black family.
How many patients have you got right now?
Only four. -DALGLEISH: Oh, shit.
-What is it? -Black family.
Sounds like one of them has radiation sickness.
DALGLEISH: Yeah.
Okay.
There's no one in the RCU at the moment.
Okay, grand.
Now you understand
-the seriousness of this. -I'm not sure I do.
-It never happened. -It never does.
-CRANKY: Dally! -CORINNE: Orderlies!
Dally!
Where are they?
Al-- Fuck a duck.
Right.
BAXTER: It's Baxter, sir.
Come in.
[ Door opens ]
[ Men shouting in distance ]
Bad news again?
-No, worse and worse still, sir. -[ Sighs ]
Dalgleish had to change destinations
and head back to the hospital.
One of the Blacks started coughing up blood.
He's in bad shape.
Cranky's there too, now.
They're all in a bit of a state, apparently.
[ Sighs heavily ]
Okay. Well, the next test is in half an hour.
We'll pop in to the hospital for a second on the way.
It's never bloody easy.
[ Whimsical music plays ]
♪♪
Mr. Moore.
Major.
[ Chuckles ]
♪♪
[ Speaks Yankunytjatjara ]
Where's the doctor?
ALICE: I can't say for certain,
but he usually goes to the bomb tests.
Jesus.
[ Sighs ]
[ Speaks Yankunytjatjara ]
Why'd you bring us here, Orange,
if there's no Doctor here, at a hospital?
Seems to me, Leo, she has every right
to be upset and confused.
[ Sam coughs ]
Tell her the doctor will see her soon.
-I've tried that. -Tell her again.
[ Footsteps depart ]
[ Tense music plays ]
♪♪
Can we have a word outside, please?
Just a wee moment's peace?
Doesn't feel like peace to me.
Alice, what happened?
Before I left here a few weeks ago,
we were mad about each other,
and now...
what, you can barely bring yourself to look at me?
So, what is it? I --
Is there someone else?
Please just talk to me.
I'm sorry, Roy.
♪♪
Would you ever want to live in a house without a fence,
a front door, or a dog?
If you know that things may be bad out there,
you owe it to your family and, in this case, your country
to build that fence and oil that door
and feed that dog,
hoping that they will always be
those normal, everyday things
that you value to keep you safe.
But in the event your home is invaded,
wouldn't you regret lacking the foresight
-to protect your loved ones? -[ Softly ] No, no.
I'm so proud...
of the great work being done here
by my...
by my friend and colleagues.
True military heroes saving Australian and British lives.
MAN: Yep.
MEN: Hear, hear.
WILCOX: Excellent.
Well done.
Bravo.
Good.
LEWIS: Leo, well said.
When television finally arrives here,
you and your dog simply must read the news.
ANNOUNCER: On the runway,
two mighty Vickers Valiant jet bombers,
one of which will be used to drop the bomb.
Weather conditions are just right,
so the Valiant heads for the target.
[ Newsreel music plays ]
Minutes to go.
Cameras roll.
[ Music continues ]
[ Jet engine roaring ]
Jesus Christ!
ST JOHN: ♪ L'ora è fuggita ♪
♪ E muoio disperato ♪
Breston, abort it.
Can't.
It's too late.
♪ E muoio disperato ♪
♪ E non ho amato ♪
Everyone, turn your backs, for God's sakes!
[ Opera music continues ]
I love you, Bear.
[ Loud thud, sand patters ]
I...didn't hear an explosion.
Did anyone hear one?
I didn't. Was there one?
I didn't sense a flash, either.
There is precedent for this.
Los Alamos, '47.
-What did they do about it? -No idea.
You know the Yanks, they tell us nothing.
Don't trust us.
[ Whimsical music plays ]
[ Groans ]
♪♪
You bastard.
♪♪
WILCOX: What the hell is going on?!
Who is that lunatic?
Somebody shoot him!
Shoot him now!
Can somebody tell me when we can turn around?
♪♪
[ Engine starts ]
♪♪
[ Gasps, sobs ]
♪♪
[ Gun clicks ]
[ Groans, sobs ]
♪♪
Am -- Am I in a lot of...
trouble?
[ Sobbing ]
LEO: I'd say a fair bit, yeah.
I want to die.
I was sent here to die, Leo.
Everyone here was.
No, we weren't, mate.
We were sent to serve. Come on.
I don't seem to be able to die here.
The irony's not lost on me, Mr. Moore.
♪♪
Come on. Come on.
Let's go.
Up you get.
You'll be right.
[ St. John breathing heavily ]
We all have to die some time, Leo.
I am aware.
I loved him.
♪♪
Come on.
Let's get you a bed, Mr. Moore.
WILCOX: This wasn't a bomb test.
This was a test of character,
and Australia and Britain
passed that test with high distinction.
I couldn't be more proud to be part of the Empire today.
Today was a day when a Brit
and an Australian showed no fear,
no regard for their own lives.
For such is the dedication
to the preservation of human lives here in Maralinga
that even if it appeared that we had a technical setback,
two vital members of our team,
including Major Leo Carmichael,
launched themselves into the center of proceedings
to make sure the bomb was safe.
God save them
and God save the Queen!
ALL: God save the Queen!
You are now welcome to attend our fabulous mess,
where a sumptuous meal
with lots of wine awaits you.
-[ Men cheer ] -Thank you.
How long's it gonna take? I have the press here.
I need a detonation. I need a fucking cloud.
We did strongly advise against bringing the test forward, sir.
But she insisted.
You advised this.
Hmm?
You know, it may be something to do
with the detonation device, Myer.
Williams, as the person in charge of detonation,
are you yet to appreciate the fact that
-the bomb has not detonated? -WILLIAMS: It's possible.
I'm just not ready to jump to conclusions.
MYER: Conclusions?
Why are we not just checking everything
on the verification protocols?
They are rather complete.
The protocols that you wrote?
The may the Jewish mind works.
[ Laughs ]
[ Snorts ]
♪♪
Guy fucking Burgess.
Sensational in bed,
one has to admit.
Oh, I say.
But those two weeks have ruined my life.
I didn't think I'd truly love Rupert,
but I did.
I've been sent here to rot, Leo.
What did you do to deserve this?
How is he?
Harmless now.
I expect you feel that I have
profoundly compromised you.
I'm sorry.
Compromised?
I've never craved the security of a fence,
a door, and a dog so intensely.
I believe that family in Adelaide
who were visited by one of your balloons
also had a fence,
a door, and a dog.
But how are they doing, poster boy?
Those kids still with us?
Poster boy?
It's Quentin's suicide note.
"My darling...
chicken...
I am drowning in guilt...
It's all very clear.
She was stealing his top-secret reports.
One of us has to confront her about it.
You're her boss.
You scoffed at the idea.
You can hear it from the horse's mouth.
All I need to clinch it is a confession to a third party.
A confession?
Really?
Talk to Corinne.
A confession is her only way out of this.
Are you Catholic, by any chance?
-So you'll see Corinne? -Of course.
[ Footsteps recede ]
Dr. Lloyd-George, a.k.a. Chicken,
found it amongst Quentin's papers.
[ Dramatic music plays ]
♪♪
[ Sobs, sniffles ]
[ Breathes heavily ]
♪♪
Is it true?
CORINNE: Yes.
Yes.
So...?
The man was clearly a lover, not a fighter.
[ Chuckles ]
[ Both laugh ]
And what he says is definitely true?
-Yes. -You leaked data?
Yes, I used Quentin, and I feel rotten about it.
You know this place is more rotten.
♪♪
Ah, timing.
I'll leave you to it.
Sleeping soundly now.
I've already sent cables to Canberra and London, you know.
Probably wreck his career.
-Leo... -I know.
Christ.
Leo, what the hell is this?
What have you done, turn this hospital into a circus?
What's he saying, Orange?
DALGLEISH: [In Yankunytjatjara] He's angry with the nurses.
LEWIS: Get them out of here now.
They don't belong in a hospital.
They're here on my order.
And mine, Doctor.
Let's go outside, Lewis, and calm down.
He needs attention, even if it's just to manage the pain.
The answer's no, Leo. Get them out of my fucking hospital!
-You're a fucking doctor! -God knows what diseases
these animals are carrying with them.
I won't have them in my hospital.
First, it's not your hospital, sport,
and second, I never thought you'd turn out
-to be such a fucking turd. -I am British.
You may want to lay down with the dogs, Leo.
I suppose a lot of Australians are inclined to do so,
but I'm a little more aspirational.
You have exposed me, exposed us,
to very grave legal consequences.
If this animal is treated here, there will be a paper trail.
It can then be proved that I've been treating
indigenous personnel who are not supposed to be here.
It would either be career suicide or summary execution,
neither of which I fancy.
[ Gun cocks ]
CRANKY: I am British too, Doctor.
I fought the Boer,
the Hun, the Nazis.
I fought in the Sudan, Kenya,
in three Indian states.
I'm not a doctor,
but even I know whatever that boy is suffering from,
we did it to him.
Now, I want you to shut your disgusting mouth
whilst I give you an official order.
Treat him.
And if I ever hear you speak that way again,
I will blow your bloody brains out for insubordination.
I just gave you an order, man.
Where's my fucking salute?!
♪♪
I'll look after this for you, sir.
[ Exhales shakily ]
Honestly...
there's nothing we can do, sir.
His heart's still holding up, but getting weaker.
It's two days at the most.
You can operate.
LEWIS: But to what end, sir?
Despite my best efforts, he'd never survive it.
What's he saying, Orange?
SAM: Mum...
...if I have to die...
I want to do it on our land.
Not here.
Not in this place.
[ Tense music plays ]
♪♪
So you gave Corinne the letter?
Yeah, and she read it.
-EVA: And? -And she denies every word.
And I believe her.
She wasn't the leaker.
My sense of it...
is that Quentin didn't even write this letter.
As I understand it, he was a lover,
not a fighter.
Where are you going?
Corinne's upset enough, you know. Don't pursue her.
I wasn't going to pursue Corinne, Major.
I was going to check in on Mr Moore.
Well, I'll join you.
[ Dramatic music plays ]
What happened?
He passed a few minutes ago.
♪♪
Leave the sheet off for a minute,
will you, Alice?
♪♪
Good God.
He looks happy.
LEO: It's the rictus grin,
when the facial muscles contort after death.
I say he looks happy.
Very well.
What did he die from, Alice?
Doctor Lewis says it was a heart attack.
♪♪