The Imitation Game Page #2

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then we'll know for sure, won't we?

Welcome to Enigma.

The details of every surprise attack,

every secret convoy,

and every U-boat in the bloody Atlantic

go into that thing

and outcomes gibberish.

It's beautiful.

It's the crooked hand of death itself.

Our Wrens intercept thousands

of radio messages a day.

And to the lovely young ladies

of the Women's Royal Navy,

they're nonsense.

It's only when you feed them back

into Enigma that they make any sense.

But we have an Enigma machine.

Yes, Polish Intelligence

smuggled it out of Berlin.

So what's the problem?

Just put the intercepted messages

back into the Enigma and...

Look, it's not that simple. Is it?

Just having an Enigma machine

doesn't help you to decode the messages.

Very good, Mr Turing.

To decode a message, you need

to know the machine's settings.

Now, the Germans switch settings

every day, promptly at midnight.

We usually intercept our first message

around 6:
0Oam.

Which gives you exactly

18 hours every day to crack the code

before it changes and you start again.

Five rotors. 10 plugboard cables.

- That's one million...

-1,000 million.

- No, it's... I've got it.

- It's a million million.

Well, it's in the millions,

obviously.

There's over 150 million million million

possible settings.

Very good.

One hundred and fifty-nine,

if you want to be exact about it,

1-5-9 with 18 zeros behind it.

Possibilities.

Every single day.

Gentlemen,

meet Hugh Alexander.

I personally selected him

to run this unit.

Didn't you...

Mr Alexander won Britain's

national chess championship.

- Twice.

- You're not the only one

who's good at games round here, Turing.

Are we to work together, then?

I prefer to have my own office.

You're a team and you will work as one.

I don't have time to explain myself

as I go along

and I'm afraid these men

would only slow me down.

If you can't play together,

then I'm afraid

we can't let you play at all.

This is Stewart Menzies. MI6.

There are only five divisions

of Military Intelligence.

- There is no MIG.

- Exactly.

That's the spirit.

Mr Turing, do you know

how many British servicemen have died

because of Enigma?

- Uh, no, I don't.

- Three.

While we've been having

this conversation.

Oh, look, there's another.

I rather hope he didn't have a family.

This war Commander Denniston's

been going on about,

we're not winning it.

Break the code,

at least we have a chance.

Shall we leave the children alone

with their new toy?

All right, gentlemen...

Let's play.

The game was quite a simple one.

Every single German message,

every surprise attack,

every bombing run,

every, uh...

...imminent U-boat assault.

They were all Heating

through the air.

Radio signals that,

well, any schoolboy

with an AM kit could intercept.

The trick was that they were encrypted.

One hundred and fifty-nine

million million million

possible Enigma settings.

All we had to do was try each one.

But if we had 10 men

checking one setting a minute

for 24 hours every day

and seven days every week,

how many days do you think it would take

to check each of the settings?

It's not days, it's years.

It's 20 million years.

To stop a coming attack,

we would have to check

20 million years' worth of settings

in 20 minutes.

I'm famished. Lunch?

Good Lord, what is it about women

with little hats?

The boys...

We're going to get some lunch.

Alan?

- Yes?

- I said we're going to get some lunch.

- Alan?

- Yes?

- Can you hear me?

- Yes.

I said we're off to get some...

This is starting to get

a little bit repetitive.

What is?

I had asked if you wanted

to come to lunch with us.

Er, no, you didn't.

You said you were going

to get some lunch.

Have I offended you in some way?

Why would you think that?

Would you like to come

to lunch with us?

What time's lunchtime?

- Christ, Alan, it's a bleeding sandwich.

- What is?

- Lunch.

- I don't like sandwiches.

Never mind.

You know, to pull off

this irascible genius routine,

one actually has to be a genius, Alan.

And yet we're the ones

making progress here, aren't we?

You are?

Yes, we are.

We have decrypted a number

of German messages

by analysing the frequency

of letter distribution.

Oh, even a broken clock is right

twice a day.

That's not progress.

That's just blind luck.

I'm designing a machine that will

allow us to break every message,

every day, instantly.

Who's hungry?

- Let's go.

- I'm hungry.

- What?

- Peter asked who was hungry.

Can I have some soup, please?

What do you mean, classified?

No, I am aware of the literal meaning

of the word "classified",

what I'm asking is

why would a maths professor

have his military records classified?

Yeah, well, I will come down.

Pardon me, I'd like to see

some documents, if I may.

Service records of a MrTuring, Alan.

Foreign Office sent me.

This is unacceptable.

If you wish to discuss a complaint,

I suggest you make a proper appointment.

Alexander... Complaint?

No. No, Hugh Alexander has denied

my requisition for parts and equipment

that I need to build the machine

I have designed.

Your fellow code-breakers

are refusing to work with you

and they've filed a formal complaint.

It is inspired

by an old Polish code machine,

only this one is

infinitely more advanced.

If you don't respond to the complaint,

I shall have to take it up

with the Home Office.

Put those files by my desk.

Fine. My response is they're all idiots,

fire them and use the savings

to fund my machine.

I only need about 100,000.

100,000?

Why are you building a machine?

it's highly technical,

you wouldn't understand.

I suggest you make the effort to try.

Enigma is an extremely

well-designed machine.

Our problem is that

we're only using men to try to beat it.

What if only a machine

can defeat another machine?

Well, that's not very technical.

Hugh Alexander

is in charge of your unit.

He said no and that is that.

I simply don't have time for this.

Have you ever won a war, Turing?

I have. Do you know how it's done?

Order. Discipline. Chain of command.

You're not at university any longer.

You are a very small cog

in a very large system

and you will do

as your commanding officer instructs.

Who... Who is your commanding officer?

Winston Churchill,

Number 10 Downing Street, London SW1.

You have a problem with my decision,

you can take it up with him.

Mr Menzies. Mr Menzies!

Are you going to London?

- Possibly.

- Would you deliver a letter for me?

Look, I'm sorry, but are you joking?

Churchill's put Alan in charge?

- This is a terrible idea.

- No, no, no...

So I can give these men orders now?

I hate to say it but yes.

Excellent. Keith and Charles,

you're both fired.

- Excuse me?

- What?

You're mediocre linguists

and positively poor code-breakers.

Alan, you can'tjust fire

Keith and Charles.

Well, he just said I could.

No, I did no such thing.

But Churchill did.

Go to hell.

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