"The oceans and the forests, the earth and the sky belong to..."
(faltering)
God help me.
THE SIREN BLARES, A SHRILL ATTENTION-GETTER.
She stiffens and glares toward the ceiling.
JAMIE
I told you I promised!
With a frightened glance toward the door, she shuffles toward a section of the control room that we haven't seen.
There, she reaches a treadmill, breathes deeply, and straps what looks like a blood-pressure cuff to each arm. Wires lead out of the cuff to a monitor.
Nervous, she glances toward the door.
JAMIE
If you'd just been honest...If you'd only prepared me...
THE SIREN WARNS HER. JAMIE cowers.
JAMIE
I know! I know! I hear you! But why won't you talk to me?
With a frantic gaze, she studies the ceiling.
No answer.
Distraught, she steps on the treadmill and pushes a button. The treadmill begins to move beneath her. She starts to walk.
CLOSE UP on the monitor to which her cuffs and wires are attached. Like an EKG, it shows FLASHING RED NUMBERS-blood pressure, pulse, and other numbers that we don't understand.
Jamie walks in place, the treadmill moving beneath her.
A WHISTLE BLOWS.
Jamie presses another number on the treadmill.
The treadmill moves faster.
The monitor's numbers increase.
Jamie paces increasingly faster and begins to recite.
JAMIE
My name is Jamie Neal. I'm an assistant professor of deep-space psychology.
THE WHISTLE BLOWS AGAIN.
Flinching, Jamie presses another number on the controls. The treadmill moves faster. She hastens her pace.
THE FLASHING RED NUMBERS go higher.
Despite the effort of her increased pace, Jamie continues reciting.
JAMIE
Specialty - adaptation to confinement. Reactions to a limited environment. Potential aberrant behavior caused by the stress of...
When THE WHISTLE SHRILLS AGAIN, Jamie presses another number on the treadmill's console. She's forced to pace even faster.
JAMIE
Claustrophobia.
Sweat beads on her brow.
JAMIE
Five rooms. Two here in this central unit...
(a nervous glance toward the door)
three others, an entrance bay, a solar power station, and sleeping quarters, linked to this central unit by corridors.
(swallows, wipes sweat from her brow)
But I can't reach my sleeping quarters...
(an even more nervous glance toward the door)
unless I pass through there.
ANOTHER SHRILL WHISTLE. Jamie hurriedly presses another button. As the treadmill increases speed, she's almost forced to run.
JAMIE
And we all know what's in there.
She shudders.
JAMIE
You bet. For sure. We all know what I have to face in there.
(out of breath)
After you've made me fulfill my bargain.
The FLASHING RED NUMBERS on the monitor go higher.
Jamie's running now.
JAMIE
After you've put me through my paces for today.
(wipes sweat from her brow)
Or is this yesterday? I don't know anymore. Isn't that what you want to find out? How much stress can someone take?
On the monitor, THE RED NUMBERS FLASH as if out of control.
Instead of the whistle, THE SIREN ONCE AGAIN BLARES.
Breathing rapidly, Jamie presses another number on the treadmill's console. Her pace decreases. Nervous but relieved, she presses more numbers, reducing her speed until the treadmill stops and she steps off.
At once, after raising her Lakers sweatshirt to wipe her face, she stares toward the ceiling, then the door, in apprehension.
JAMIE
My name is Jamie Neal. I'm twenty eight. I've been here...I think...for sixty-four days. I think. Why didn't you give me windows? I want to see...
(paws at a wall)
the stars. The sun sets even here. Not on the schedule I'm used to. But I could get used to that schedule. And I'd love to see it. After sixty-four days.
She squints toward the ceiling.
JAMIE
Or nights. How can I know? If only I could see... I bet the sunset...no smog here...the colors must be...
(her voice drops)
I remember...crimson...like a flower...a rose...in blossom...
(melancholy)
beautiful.
In a sudden rage, she kicks the remnants of the habitat's model she earlier crushed.
JAMIE
Never mind windows! Why didn't you give me...?
She spins toward the numerous consoles.
JAMIE
Computers! Temperature gauges! Pressure readouts! Oxygen monitors! Humidity! Gravity! Even dust! I can measure everything! Except the single most precious thing in my life!
She slumps against a table.
JAMIE
Time. Maybe it's only sixty-three days. Or maybe sixty-nine. Or maybe I've been here only a couple of weeks. But it feels like...
(despairing)
Eternity.
BEEP.
JAMIE
Why didn't you at least allow me to wear a watch?
She gestures frantically toward the consoles.
JAMIE
Or let me have a clock?
Nothing fancy! No digital astro-time calculator. No computerized star-date monitor, with comparative readouts for here and home and the Gemini galaxy and... Just a plain old-fashioned clock, makes a twisting motion with one hand, pretending to hold an object in the other
The kind you wind up at night, and it ticks, and the hands go around, and if you want to wake up at a certain hour, you set the alarm. And when it rings, you know it's tomorrow. And if you make a mark
(pretends she has a pencil)
on a page every time the alarm goes off...and if you count the marks, you're sure how many days you've been here. You don't feel as if you're...
(slumps against the wall)
going crazy. Is that the point of the test? How would I react -not if but when I broke down? Because of...
She stares in horror toward the door.
JAMIE
Time.
The SIREN WAILS.
JAMIE
No.
A SECOND WAIL.
JAMIE
Please! Don't make me go in there again!
A THIRD WAIL.
Tears stream down Jamie's face.
A FOURTH WAIL.
Jamie walks toward the door, as if hypnotized.
JAMIE
Fulfill my contract. Obey my orders.
JAMIE's POINT OF VIEW-approaching the door.
JAMIE
Go through my paces.
She pauses. OFF STAGE, we HEAR THE HISS OF THE DOOR SLIDING OPEN. We ZOOM TOWARD A CLOSE-UP OF Jamie's FACE: contorted, apprehensive, horrified.
JAMIE
Time. Yes, again. Time.
The door has slid open. Beyond it, we see a CORRIDOR. But as if this is Alice in Wonderland, the corridor narrows and becomes lower.
THE BEEP PERSISTS.
JAMIE
Time.
She feels her pulse.
JAMIE
The beat of my heart. The only time I know.
She takes a Walkman-sized object from a counter, straps it around her wrist, stares at a suction cup at the end of the object, and reaches beneath her Lakers sweatshirt, apparently attaching the suction cup to her chest.
At once the BEEP BECOMES A LITTLE FASTER, as if the object on her wrist monitors the speed of her heart.
JAMIE
The constant motion of time. Except that it's meaningless without something to compare it to...Without something to appreciate... Without a sunr
ise. I could imagine a sunrise if...Why didn't you give me a watch?
THE SIREN WAILS.
Jamie flinches, clutches her fists in fury, and glares at the ceiling.
JAMIE
All right, I'm going!
The BEEP that measures her heartrate INCREASES.
She shifts through the doorway.
The roof is low enough that she's forced to stoop now. The walls narrow until they touch her shoulders.
THE BEEP GAINS A LITTLE MORE SPEED.
JAMIE
(walking stooped, glaring up)
What I want to know is, when my heart beats faster, does that mean I'm getting older?
(swallows, staring at the crawlspace)
Would sixty-nine days that feel like sixty-three days...or however long I've been here... actually be the equivalent of a hundred and twenty days? Six months? The nine months you're paying me to stay here? Because time drags...
The lowering ceiling compels her to kneel. The narrowing walls squeeze her shoulders.
There's a crawlspace directly ahead.
Jamie shudders.
THE BEEP INCREASES.
JAMIE
But my heart feels like it's on rocket fuel. Speed. Does the speed of my heart affect time? Have I been here...
The ceiling is now so low that she's forced to drop to her hands and knees.
JAMIE
Forever?
She places a hand toward the crawlspace, about to insert her head. Trembles. Hesitates.
AND THE SIREN WAILS.
JAMIE
Give me a break! I told you I'm going! I just need a minute to...!
Abruptly the door HISSES shut behind her.
She whirls.
THE BEEP INCREASES SPEED.
And something SIZZLES, the HUM AND CRACKLE of electrical current.
She flinches, in agony, raising one hand, then another, trying to push herself off the floor. But the ceiling's so low she can't raise her back. She jerks one knee, then the other off the floor, desperate to minimize contact with the CRACKLING electrical current.
JAMIE
No! Please, stop! I'm going! 1 promise!
She scurries into the crawlspace.
At once, the CRACKLING current stops.
Her face is contorted with pain as she sprawls on her stomach. The crawlspace is so small it reminds us of an air-conditioning duct. She breathes heavily, exhausted by the electrical current, slumping in relief.
JAMIE
No more! This can't go on forever!
A sigh of despair.
JAMIE
Or maybe this is hell.
She crawls awkwardly, wincing, bumping her head on the ceiling, scraping her shoulders against the tight walls.
JAMIE
Maybe you never meant to keep your word. Maybe you're just playing with me? Are you enjoying this, putting me through my paces, watching the way I react. Am I just some kind of...? Just a cruel sadistic game to you?
With effort, Jamie reaches the end of the crawlspace and squirms toward another compartment. Her brow is moist. Her elbows and knees are dirty. The shoulders of her sweatshirt are frayed and grimy.
She musters strength and struggles to stand...wavers...leans against a wall.
Wiping sweat from her forehead, she stares ahead. What she sees makes her close her eyes in despair. She reopens them, squinting. Her voice cracks.
JAMIE
Why did you...? No! You broke the bargain again! You changed the rules! You...!
THE BEEP INCREASES.
With a sob, she struggles not to sink to the floor.
JAMIE
It's not the same! Why do you keep changing the...?
Now we see the room Jamie has entered. It's completely bare. More important, the floor tilts upward - severely.
JAMIE
Not the same. Not the same.
A
SIREN WAILS. JAMIE
I hear it, you...!
She staggers forward, reaches the incline, attempts to climb it while standing, but falls to her stomach and claws her way toward the top.
JAMIE
My name is Jamie Neal.
(claws upward)
I think.
(claws upward)
I'm twenty-eight.
(claws upward)
I think.
(claws upward)
Going on a hundred.
(claws upward)
I'm an assistant professor of...
Jamie hesitates, nods in fierce resolve, and continues crawling higher.
JAMIE
Deep-space...
Jamie hesitates again, shakes her head in confusion.
JAMIE
Psychology? I think. My specialty is...
She reaches the crest and slumps across it, head on one side, legs on the other.
JAMIE
Adaptation to confinement? How long, dear God? How long?
THE SIREN BLARES.
Jamie raises her weary head. Her determined eyes glare toward the ceiling.
JAMIE
I need to rest!
Again we hear the SIZZLE AND CRACKLE of electrical current.
Jamie screams. THE BEEP INCREASES. She strains to raise her body off the painful torturing peak of the slope. In a frenzy, she topples over the rim.
On the opposite side, she tumbles, groaning, down a slope. She lands hard on a level surface.
She struggles for breath, kneels, and manages to stand.
JAMIE
My name is Jamie Neal. I'm twenty-eight. I'm an assistant professor of...I'm a human being. And no matter how much you break your word, no matter how much you torture me...! I'll fight back! I swear it! I'll fight back!
THE SIREN WAILS.
JAMIE
flinches. THE BEEP INCREASES. But she stays in place.
Abruptly the current CRACKLES AND SIZZLES, and as if thrust by a cattle prod, she lurches forward. THE BEEP becomes EVEN MORE RAPID.
JAMIE
You broke your word! I'll break mine!
MORE CRACKLING AND SIZZLING.
Her face contorted with agony, Jamie stumbles across an open space and reaches a metal ladder. Prodded by the SIZZLING electrical current, she scurries upward.
JAMIE
Jamie Neal. Jamie Neal. Jamie Neal.
She disappears through a circle in the ceiling above the ladder.
The SIZZLING stops as Jamie topples from the ladder and lands hard in another area. Groaning, she slowly raises her head.
Squints.
Shakes her head to clear her vision.
JAMIE
(seeking refuge in her song)
"The oceans and the forests, the earth and the sky belong to you and me."
The room is filled with mirrors, like a "fun house" in an amusement park.
JAMIE
You changed it again!
With enormous effort, she stands. THE BEEP INCREASES.
JAMIE
It's all a lie! You never meant to...!
She struggles forward, glaring toward the mirrors.
Each reveals a different image. She's fat. She's thin. She's tall. She's short. She's twisted. Concave. Convex.
JAMIE
Now I'm the one who's a monster! You've turned me into...!
(recoils from the mirrors)
You! I'll get even! I swear I'll get even!
OFF STAGE, WE HEAR A HISS. Jamie spins in terror, THE BEEP EVEN FASTER. A door slides open. A shadow fills the entrance. Jamie cringes.
The shadow becomes a...what to call it?...not human...misshapen, with ganglia, and boils, and several eyes.
MONSTER
(voice distorted, an electronic simulation)
You've done very well. Today you've been especially adaptive...and especially amusing. You've earned your reward.
The monster raises a flat box.
MONSTER
Your nourishment. Just the way you prefer it. With double cheese and black olives.
&
nbsp; JAMIE
I'm allergic to black olives.
The monster's grotesque arm sags.
MONSTER
I'm sorry. I'm new at this facility. I was told that your species craves those foods.
JAMIE
straightens, braces her shoulders, inhales, and glowers. THE BEEP BECOMES VERY RAPID.
JAMIE
And I told you I'd fight back. You broke your bargain. Now I'll break mine.
MONSTER
There's nothing you can do. This is the way things are. You have one more task to perform before you can eat.
Suddenly horizontal RAYS OF LIGHT fill the space between them. The rays are like transparent, multicolored poles in a grotesque climbing gym. They CRACKLE AND HISS with electrical current.
JAMIE
looks more angry.
JAMIE
I'm Jamie Neal!
MONSTER
We know.
Jamie crawls under one of the rays. A portion of it touches her back and shocks her.
Groaning, she stands. She squeezes between two other rays but comes too close and again gets shocked.
JAMIE
I'm a human being!
MONSTER
We know that, also.
JAMIE
Wrong! You don't have the faintest idea! Watch me prove it!
She braces herself and walks straight into the remaining rays, electricity jolting her. As the CRACKLE becomes unbearable, she takes slow, agonized, determined steps, plodding toward her captor. Blisters appear on her face. Emerging from the rays, she staggers toward the monster, grabs the box, hurls it angrily away, wavers, then falls to the floor.
CLOSE UP on her burned, bleeding hand as it twitches, then becomes motionless.
THE FRANTIC BEEP STOPS.
The monster stares down in bewilderment.
A section of the ceiling slides away, revealing another monster.
MONSTER 2
(distorted voice)
How unfortunate. She was particularly entertaining.
MONSTER 1
After all this time...I still don't understand their emotions... but...
(lowers his head)
I suspect that I'm feeling...what do they call it?
MONSTER 2
Grief.
MONSTER 1
Yes. An unusual emotion. The experiment failed.
MONSTER 2
Not totally. We learned something.
MONSTER 1
What?
MONSTER 2
When we scanned her mind, we learned that her species kept rodent-like creatures...hamsters? ...in similar cages. What they called "habitats." Apparently her kind were hypocrites. They enjoyed having...but didn't like...in fact, they loathed...being pets.
FADE OUT.
NightScape Page 7
