by Diane Duane
Of dead people? Where?
GUNTER
(slight smile)
Where no one will notice.
EXT. SPEAKER’S CORNER—DAY
The famous corner at Hyde Park. Various groups of tourists, etc, stand listening to enthusiastic crazies of differing kinds. We see several of these groups—flat-earthers, anti-immigration nuts, “Rights for Roaches”—and then the last group, gathered around amost unusual speaker, without a soapbox: Joy. A pair of BOBBIES walks right past her and the peculiar group of LISTENERS—some most oddly dressed, apparently from all kinds of time periods. Just one more group of nuts, and they’re not making any trouble….
JOY
You have to do something! Stand up for your rights!
ND DEAD PERSON
What rights? We’re dead!
JOY
See, that’s exactly the mindset that’s got you where you are. You don’t just wait around for someone to give you rights! You have to assert yourselves! And you’ve got to help your fellow, uh, previously living types.
ND DEAD PERSON
But if we go in there, we’ll just be caught the way all the others were. Better to leave things the way they are. Maybe they’ll never find some of us, if we keep quiet.
ND DEAD PERSON 2
If we make ourselves noticeable, they’ll start hunting us down!
JOY
They’re hunting you down now. And they’re doing it faster all the time to keep their company growing. If you don’t do anything, who’s going to do something when your turn comes?
GUNTER
(ironic, angry)
What was it they said? “When they came for the gays, I didn’t speak up. When they came for the Jews, I didn’t speak up. When they came for the Gypsies, and the Catholics, I didn’t speak up. When at last they came for me, there was nobody left to speak.”
People look sad, but no declarations of support are forthcoming. Joy and Gunter exchange a glance, disappointed.
Then the group REACTS to a new arrival, bowing or curtseying and getting out of the way as a YOUNG WOMAN in her late thirties, with elaborately styled red hair and wearing a rich light-colored gown and jeweled ruff, walks through the crowd. Joy STARES as she recognizes QUEEN ELIZABETH THE FIRST from the Gheeraerts portrait in the National Portrait Gallery.
ELIZABETH I
What’s this? A meeting called without my countenance? Manners hereabouts are changed of a sudden.
(to Joy)
Or missing entire. Hast no courtesy for your Queen?
JOY
(awestruck but holds her ground)
Sorry, my people don’t do queens. But some of them we remember, because they were just hot.
ELIZABETH I
(an evaluatory beat)
True respect’s worth a hundred false bows. We’ll let it pass. Is it true, what rumor tells? You’ve found where my lost people are taken?
GUNTER
(with a slight bow)
Some are not your people, Majest‰t.
ELIZABETH I
If their souls are bound to my England, they are my responsibility. If they are in danger, I must protect them. What villain’s to blame?
JOY
A guy named Erickson.
Elizabeth moves into the center of the gathering, and the dead gather around her: it’s plain who’s running this show.
ELIZABETH I
Some renegade baron? We’ll settle his case. Where are his forces assembled?
GUNTER
Down by the City.
ELIZABETH I
Then gather our folk and we’ll away.
ND DEAD PERSON
But madam, what can we possibly do?
ELIZABETH I
We can make a plan, and fight! Too long our people have been stolen away. Now we know why. But living or dead, there’ll be no slaves in my country! Worse than dead I’d be if I stood idly by while such evil was done to those around me. All must be free in a free land!
A STIR goes through the crowd: faces look more involved —
ELIZABETH I (CONT’D)
We must seek out the miscreants and fight for our people, fight the evildoers wherever we find them! We will fight them on the beaches, we will fight them in the streets; we will never surrender!
A CHEER from the dead (and approving NOD as the bobbies pass again). Joy gives the Queen a look.
JOY
The speech sounds kind of familiar.
ELIZABETH I
He’s not here to complain. And ‘twas a good speech. Now lead on to where we may talk. We’ll lay a plan shall make this dastard Erickson rue that his mother bore him.
JOY
First thing we have to do is get you some clothes.
ELIZABETH I
(a not-amused look)
I have clothes.
JOY
Something less splendid. A disguise.
ELIZABETH I
Ah! Lead on.
The group EXITS past the bobbies, who watch them go as they walk on about their rounds.
BOBBY 1
Some re-enactment society?
BOBBY 2
Suits me. Bring back those old-fashioned values, that’s the ticket.
INT. COMPUTER SHOW—DAY
The sales stand. Harry looks frazzled, scribbles in a notebook: a POCKET P.A. sits nearby. Boyce stops by.
BOYCE
You okay, Harry? Looking stressed.
HARRY
Nothing worth mentioning. How’re we doing today?
BOYCE
Three hundred so far.
HARRY
Good. You see what’s his face around here this morning? Carlyle?
BOYCE
No, I think he went back up country.
HARRY
Okay. Just curious.
Boyce pats him on the shoulder and goes off.
POCKET P.A. “VOICE”
I’ve got a message for you.
HARRY
(sotto: uneasy)
Yeah. I know.
INT. ORMONDE HOTEL—AFTERNOON
Our guerrilla group lays its plans in the lounge. Joy, Doris, Gunter, Pario, five or six more new DEAD PEOPLE are there. On the table is the manual that Gunter stole.
Elizabeth ENTERS dressed in Joy’s clothes: dark jeans, an oversized black “I (heart) NY” t-shirt. She’s lost the elaborate hairstyle; her long red hair is pulled back tight and braided into a crown.
ELIZABETH I
This garb chafes where it ought not.
JOY
I don’t fit those jeans the way I used to either. Sorry about that.
ELIZABETH I
Needs must when the devil drives. Now show us our enemy’s stronghold.
Joy spreads her tourist map of London on the table.
JOY
Okay. Here’s Erickson. Here’s the front door. There’s a guard post there. Employees’ entrance, here.
GUNTER
And here is the layout of the great room downstairs.
He produces a large sketch of the “clean room”. The others examine this. Gunter turns his attention back to the manual.
Joy’s Erickson cellphone rings. Everyone STARES at it with pity and horror. Joy picks it up.
JOY
(to the phone)
I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.
(Hits the “answer” button)
Hello?
INT. COMPUTER SHOW—DAY
Harry is off to one side, talking fast.
HARRY
(sotto)
Hon, all the reps are buzzing about some kind of break-in at the plant last night. No one’s being specific. But the word is that new security’s being put in place to deal with some folks we know.
JOY (V.O.)
Okay, honey. Anything else about, you know, what we should do?
HARRY
Uh, no. Listen, gotta go.
(hangs up)
INT. ORMONDE HOTEL—AFTERNOON
Joy turns to the others.
ELIZABETH I
Well? What news?
JOY
Only that they know we’re coming, and they’re getting ready for us.
Joy looks at Gunter. He’s absorbed in the manual, frowning.
ELIZABETH I
Whether or not they’ve made their lair secure, we must do what we can. Our tactic’s plain enough. We must come at them from many sides at once. Our folk will wall-walk here and there in the building, frighting the inmates, making them think an attack comes where it does not. When their forces are drawn away…
Gunter is staring at one page, shaking his head.
JOY
(to Gunter)
What? What’s the matter?
GUNTER
I had it last night. Right in my hand. And did not use it!
JOY
What?
GUNTER
The answer. Steel!
He turns pages in the manual again, shows it to Joy.
GUNTER (CONT’D)
See here. And here. Repeated strong warnings about “ferrous material.”
JOY
“Ferrous?”
She grabs the manual.
GUNTER
Iron, or steel. They are conductors. Drop conductive material in the middle of sensitive circuitry, and of course things will short out.
ELIZABETH I
And more than that! Cold iron was ever the great weapon against magic, black or white.
GUNTER
If I had dropped the wrench I could have blown the master pentagram. They would be free—George, all of them—if I had only known.
JOY
Give yourself a break. You did the best you could! Better than I would have, probably.
GUNTER
I doubt that. But I did better than I have done for a long time. As I told you, we can do nothing new… usually.
They exchange a look. Joy breaks it first.
JOY
So you’re telling me all we have to do is dump some steel in the middle of this thing?
GUNTER
Enough to make it short out. And we must destroy the pentagram so it cannot be used again.
ND DEAD MAN
So we all need something made of iron or steel.
DORIS
All our flatware is stainless steel.
GUNTER
Then let us arm ourselves.
ELIZABETH I
And attack today. Surprise has won many a fight. And why give them a chance to become better prepared?
JOY
Let’s go.
INT. COMPUTER SHOW—DAY
Harry is off to one side of the sales area, ostensibly having a coffee break. He’s about to change a pocket calculator’s batteries. On the table nearby is a STEEL BALLPOINT pen.
Harry looks unhappily at the calculator as he pulls the battery cover off, replaces the batteries, checks the front: the calculator’s running. Then he lifts the rest of the back off the calculator, gazes at the revealed Erickson chip. The other salesman, Nigel, passes by on his way to doing something else.
HARRY
Nigel? You ever have one of these chips short out?
NIGEL
Occasionally. You lose a screw down them, that’ll do it. Get it out, the chip comes right back up.
HARRY
Right. Thanks.
Nigel goes off.
POCKET P.A. “VOICE”
I have a message for you.
Harry looks at it, then at the calculator. He picks up the pen, retracts its point, lays it ACROSS THE CHIP.
A tiny FIZZ, a few sparks. Harry turns the calculator over: the display’s blank… then comes up again. One word: PLEASE.
Then that’s gone too. The calculator resets itself to zero. Harry picks it up, shakes it gently. Nothing.
POCKET P.A. “VOICE” (CONT’D)
I have a message for you.
HARRY
Show it.
The secretary displays it on its little screen. JOY CALLED AT ELEVEN THIRTY ONE. MESSAGE: WE’RE MOVING. LOVE YOU. B.
Harry sits. A long moment of decision. He gets up, EXITS.
EXT. STREET OUTSIDE ORMONDE HOTEL—DAY
Little GROUPS of three and four, some very oddly dressed, come out of it and hail cabs, get into them and LEAVE. The last to leave together are Joy, Elizabeth, Gunter and Doris.
INT. ERICKSON COMPUTERS—DAY
Through the floor-to-ceiling glass walls, several cabs DRIVE PAST and out of sight. Then Joy and Elizabeth WALK IN through the front door, into the lobby (past the entry to a SECURITY ROOM) and up to the RECEPTION DESK. As they talk to the guards there, Joy NOTES that one has a large set of keys sitting in front of him.
JOY
Hi, we’re from City Temps, we’re for the data manager’s office on the fourth floor.
GUY AT THE DESK
What name, please?
JOY
Erickson.
GUY AT THE DESK
I mean, who called you?
JOY
Sorry, it was just someone on the fourth floor.
GUY AT THE DESK
I’ll check for you.
JOY
Thanks. Is there a ladies’ room down here?
GUY AT THE DESK
Over there, right-hand door.
He picks up the phone as Joy and Elizabeth head that way.
Elizabeth slips around a corner, VANISHES THROUGH a wall. Joy waits near the elevators, looking twitchy. She pushes one button for each elevator, impatient. The watching guard rolls his eyes, looks away.
Elizabeth meanwhile PASSES INTO a room behind. It’s a MAIL ROOM with sorting bins, xerox machines, etc. Elizabeth WALKS THROUGH cabinets, shelves, etc., looking over the people working there. Some of these SCREAM or FAINT as she walks through things near them. Elizabeth goes to one woman and UNCLIPS her ID badge, then makes for the door, ignoring the hysteria in her wake. In passing she PULLS OFF another woman’s badge, then OPENS THE DOOR NORMALLY and walks out.
Joy FIDGETS by the elevators. The Security Guard, on the phone, looks at her suspiciously. Joy smiles nervously. DING! The first elevator arrives and its DOOR OPENS.
In the security office near the front door, a JACOBEAN DEAD PERSON in flowing wig and lace-cuffed coat leans THROUGH THE WALL at the two SECURITY PEOPLE working there, one male, one female. The guy’s HOLDING HIS BLEEDING HEAD in the crook of one arm.
JACOBEAN DEAD GUY
Excuse me…
They STARE.
JACOBEAN DEAD GUY (CONT’D)
Do either of you good people know where I might find a barber?
The female security guard FREEZES. The male one opens his mouth and lets out a really impressive SCREAM.
JACOBEAN DEAD GUY (CONT’D)
(mild reproach)
Well, really. I only need a little off the top.
In the lobby, the desk security guard REACTS to the scream, runs out from behind the desk to help—but only after DROPPING THE KEYS in a drawer and SLAMMING it shut and locked.
Joy hits the first elevator’s button again to keep it there, then RUNS to the desk. DING! The second elevator arrives. Elizabeth joins Joy, hands her one of the ID badges. Joy yanks WITHOUT RESULT at the locked desk drawer.
JOY
Shit!
ELIZABETH I
Indeed.
Elizabeth PUTS HER HAND THROUGH the front of the drawer, FIDDLES with it. The drawer OPENS. Joy snatches the keys out, points at the switchboard, then RUNS for the elevators. Elizabeth THRUSTS A HAND INTO the mini-switchboard there, gives the innards a pull. The switchboard lights GO DEAD.
Joy dives into one elevator. Elizabeth heads into the other, reaches through its instrument panel and KILLS ITS CONTROLS as well. Joy leans out the door of the first elevator.
JOY
(whispering fiercely)
Your Majesty! Get a move on!
(beat)
Elizabeth?
(beat)
Yo! Liz!!
The Queen dives into Joy’s elevator: its doors close.
INT. ELEVATOR—DAY
Joy’s PANTING with excitement. Elizabeth is calmer.
ELIZABETH I
Your manners are odd. The rulers of your land—what do you call them?
JOY
Presidents.
ELIZABETH I
And they let you call them by their names?
JOY
They’re lucky if that’s all we call them. Come on!
The door opens. With the keys Joy LOCKS the elevator in place. She and Elizabeth EXIT.
INT. ERICKSON BUILDING, EMPLOYEES’ ENTRANCE—DAY
An EDWARDIAN DEAD GUY and a VERY ROTTEN DEAD LADY walk in THROUGH THE WALL. Reacting to how they enter and how the Dead Lady looks, ND EMPLOYEES flee SCREAMING in various directions.
ROTTEN DEAD LADY
What a bleedin’ racket.
EDWARDIAN DEAD GUY
Well, look at how you’ve let yourself go!
Coarse East-London laughter from both of them as the Rotten Dead Lady tidies herself up and the two of them HEAD THROUGH the area, SABOTAGING PHONES AND CIRCUITS as they go. Behind them comes Doris, looking determined.
EXT. ERICKSON DRIVEWAY—DAY
Several vans are lined up in the “driveway” entrance to the downstairs loading area. Inside one the two TECHS are sitting in the front, chatting inconsequential ND DIALOGUE. Behind them, Pario STEPS THROUGH the van’s side, PICKS UP a wrench from one of their tool kits and turns his attention to the guys in the front seat. In the rear view mirror they NOTICE HIM. One opens his mouth —
From outside the van GRUNTS and ARGHS uar audible. The van ahead of Pario’s DRIVES AHEAD. Slowly, the one he got into ROLLS FORWARD. The unconscious driver is slumped in the seat: Pario’s hands (pushed right through his chest) are on the wheel, guiding the van into the loading area.
INT. ERICKSON LOADING AREA—DAY
Various vans UNLOAD. Pario’s van STOPS beside the others.
Inside, Pario moves back to the portable pentagram, produces a smaller steel TOOL from the tool kit, removes the pentagram’s protective cover, DROPS the steel tool on it. Brief bright FIZZ OF SPARKS and a small EXPLOSION of light.
The van’s back door of the van OPENS. Other (unloading) van drivers aren’t surprised to see Pario get out, but do react on seeing another ND DEAD PERSON EXIT the van, and ANOTHER, and ANOTHER, etc.—the old “how many people can fit in that car?” joke. Some of the Dead People exit EXIT THROUGH THE VAN’S SIDES: other van drivers, seeing this, FREAK. While one of the ND DEAD FIDDLES with the insides of the security slot-card reader at the inner “garage door” (so that other vans are STUCK outside), one SCARED DRIVER GRABS A PHONE as the roll-down door starts CLOSING.
