Miss, can I help you?
I think it belongs to the woman who came in earlier.
Maybe there's a reward for finding it.
You wouldn't think a lock that good would just pop.
- No ID on any of this stuff. - Weird, huh? What should we do with it?
We'll worry about it tomorrow. It's late. Pizza?
Sounds good.
Whoa, there, Mr. Wayne. Anything wrong?
No. Just trying to get out before they set the night alarms.
No problem, sir. I'll walk you to your car.
Thanks. The alarm system makes me nervous.
- Did we set it off by accident? - No, sir. It's from upstairs.
What the heck is that thing?
Better not take any chances. Right this way, sir.
Now, for your own safety, you stay put, Mr. Wayne.
Stay put? I don't think so.
Home.
Intruder. Rectify. Now.
I do wish you wouldn't be so rough with your toys, Master Bruce.
Wayne Manor. Moment, please.
Mr. Lucius Fox, Master Bruce. Shall I put him on the speaker phone?
Thank you, Alfred. Lucius, what's up?
Bad news, my friend.
They got away with all the prototype protein-silicon wafer chips from R & D.
The design specs?
Safe in the computer, thank heaven.
The thieves can't duplicate the chips without them.
We should discuss tightening security in case they come back.
You're right. Ten minutes, Lucius. Thanks.
Protein-silicon what, Master Bruce?
It's called wetware. The cutting edge of computer research.
- Sounds more like a line of swimsuits. - I'm talking about Al.
Artificial intelligence. The missing link between computers and human thought.
You mean machines that think?
Yes, and with a will of their own.
They could process raw data faster than we...
yet be able to make the leaps of intuition that inspired our greatest minds.
Sounds as if the human race could become expendable...
except for butlers, of course. - Of course.
When I told the mayor the nature of the theft, he insisted I oversee the investigation.
Question is, where could the thieves sell this stuff?
Beats me. The only other group researching Al on this coast...
is Karl Rossum's team at Cybertron.
I thought Rossum was retired.
Karl went into semi-seclusion after the loss of his daughter.
He taught me about electronics, but he's been more active in business lately.
- I'll talk to him. - Dad, you in here?
- Oops, bad timing. - Barbara, come in.
You've grown. It's been, what, four years?
Home from college for a visit. Made the dean's list.
And who's your little friend?
This is Woobie. My best friend since third grade.
Dad can't seem to pick me up at the airport without bringing him along.
Yes, well, he knows the way better than I.
So you go talk to Rossum, and I'll start things moving on my end.
Barbara forgot her bear.
Bruce Wayne. I'm so glad you called. It's been years.
I heard about the theft of those chips, my boy.
You need better security.
Just curious if anyone's tried to sell you any wetware.
Afraid not. If anyone does, of course, you'll be the first to know.
- Cappuccino? - Yes, thanks.
I was wondering about your own Al research.
Thank you.
Nothing like a hot cappuccino and a foot massage.
Now, let me show you my pride and joy.
This is my greatest achievement. My prototype Al.
This is HARDAC.
Who?
Holographic analytical reciprocating digital computer.
- HARDAC. - HARDAC, okay.
- And you? - How rude of me.
Bruce, this is Randa Duane, my assistant.
- Your hand is like ice. - Sorry. I've been in the cold room.
So tell me, what does HARDAC do?
Now, Bruce, I can't tell you all of my secrets, can I?
Let's just say that certain...
That certain projects are under his control.
Well, since you won't tell me what you're working on, Karl...
maybe I can charm details out of your lovely assistant.
Well, you can try.
Dinner, tomorrow night at my house?
Love to. After 8, though. I'm working late.
Good. Well, I better get going.
I'll walk you out.
Randa, you did not bring me the design specifics I needed.
There wasn't time to get them from Wayne's data banks.
I'll try again tomorrow.
Some people in high places are becoming too curious about this operation.
They must be dealt with. The next duplicant is ready.
- See to its placement tonight. - Of course.
I'll get it, princess. You keep hitting those books.
Yes. What is it?
What the devil?!
Dad? You okay?
- I'm fine. - Who was at the door?
Were you outside? Your hand is like ice.
I'm fine.
- Dad, are you sure...? - I said, I'm fine.
As of last night, Karl Rossum hadn't been approached...
to receive stolen goods, but he knew what was stolen.
So you'll try to squeeze some info from his assistant tonight.
Well, squeeze may not be the best word.
- I hope I'm not interrupting. - Not at all.
We're just installing new computer safeguards.
Well, I'll stay out of your way.
- Shall we go? - After you.
- Don't you like the roast, Dad? - It's fine.
That's practically all you've said since last night. Are you mad at me?
- No, you're... - I know. I'm fine.
But the best one was the dishwasher that turned into a Jacuzzi.
Yeah, Karl's a genius, all right.
He'd have to be to know it was wetware chips that were stolen.
Care to tell me about that, Randa?
Wayne here. I'm on my way.
I have to go out. Call Alfred if you need anything.
I'll be back soon.
- They get the wetware specs? - I don't know yet.
- They dust the keys for prints? - Yeah. Nothing.
They got the file, all right. How are these guys getting in here?
Don't worry. I uploaded a decoy file here last night.
The real design specs are at my house.
- Randa. - Yes.
The information I need was not in that file. Search the house.
My data banks of Rossum's memories indicate Wayne always kept...
important backups at home. - I'll do it right now.
I heard your voice, Ms. Duane, and thought Master Bruce had returned.
I thought you might enjoy a spot of tea.
I think it's time Ms. Duane answered some questions.
- Something wrong? - No answer at the house.
I'd better get back there. See you later, Lucius.
HARDAC, I've definitely found something. Bruce Wayne is Batman.
Intriguing. This data may be useful later. There must be a central computer.
It will have the data I need.
I see it. Prepare for interface.
I will take it from here, Randa. You come home.
Alfred? Randa?
Alfred!
Alfred?
- Master Bruce. - Alfred, what happened?
- Where's Ms. Duane? - Forgive me, Master Bruce.
I can't imagine how, but I must have dozed off.
I assume Ms. Duane has left.
I assume nothing at this point.
Computer, scan Batcave for...
What?