by Gina Damico
I wonder why the flame on Clayton’s lighter looked so normal. I remember reading once that fire is supposed to look different in space—like, it’s bluer, and it burns in a tight little ball because lack of gravity lets it burn in all directions at the same time. I know we’ve got artificial gravity onboard the ship, but would that affect how fire behaves? Because that fire behaved exactly the same way it would on Earth. And it wasn’t blue.
I wonder why I hear voices at night.
I still wonder about the scar on Titania’s belly. I saw it again when she was changing her shirt last night—I mean, I wasn’t perving. I swear. We’re all just so crammed in here, I’ve seen a lot of things I didn’t mean to see.
Anyway.
It’s this warped pink blot just under her ribs. Like the scar left over after a gunshot, but a little bigger. What could leave a scar like that?
Who is she?
[Eleven seconds pass.]
[There is the sound of rustling bedsheets, then footsteps.]
Item: Transcript of video recording—RAW, UNAIRED FOOTAGE
Source: Camera #7—Confessional Closet
Date: Febuary 5, 2016
[Titania has been in here for a while. She keeps rubbing her eyes. A long time passes before she speaks.]
Titania: I had a bad dream.
Not, like, a nightmare. Just a dream about Lily singing her weird made-up songs.
Those songs drove me crazy. She drove me crazy. I mean, she was my little sister. My shadow. All those years she followed me around, copied me, begged me to hang out with her, dragged me into stuffed-animal tea parties I didn’t want to attend. And all those years I screamed at her to leave me alone.
But that’s what older sisters do. Older sisters get mad at that stuff—even though they secretly, deep down, love that they get their own little built-in fan club looking up to them all the time.
Figures that the one time she didn’t want to follow me, I made her.
That I was the one who dragged her in.
Dragged her down.
[The door opens. Titania looks up at Nico.]
Titania: Hi.
Nico: Hi. May I?
[Titania slides off the leather stool and sits on the floor. Nico sits across from her, both of them again in profile.]
Nico: Can I ask you something? Did your parents really name you Titania?
[She looks surprised—then, embarrassed.]
Titania: No.
Nico: Why did you change it?
Titania: I didn’t. Not officially, anyway. Just for this show.
Nico: What’s your real name?
[Titania squirms.]
Nico: Can you at least tell me how you picked it? Because you don’t strike me as a queen of the fairies.
Titania: Your school made you read A Midsummer Night’s Dream too?
Nico: Doesn’t everyone’s?
Titania: Yeah. But it’s not from that.
Nico: Then what?
[She blows out a puff of air.]
Titania: In fourth grade, for some history research project thing, our assignment was to look up an important event that happened on our birthdays, so that we would always remember it. My birthday is January 11. On that date in 1787, William Herschel discovered two moons of Uranus, which he named Oberon and Titania.
[She examines her cuticles.]
Titania: When I was filling out the audition form, it asked for date of birth, and—I don’t know, I guess writing it down triggered that memory, and I just made a split-second decision. Crossed out my real name and gave myself a new one.
Nico: Didn’t your parents notice when they signed the consent form?
Titania: My parents [cracking her neck] did not give their consent.
Nico: What?
Titania: I sort of . . . ran away. Again. The first time with the canoe didn’t work. I’d say this attempt stuck better.
[Nico’s mouth hangs open. Titania puts her hands out, her face apologetic.]
Titania: I’m sorry—I know it must piss you off to hear that.
Nico: What?
Titania: That I voluntarily walked out on a mint-condition set of not-dead parents, while yours . . .
[She trails off. Nico considers this, then shakes his head.]
Nico: No. I know we don’t know each other that well, but I think I know by now that you’re a decent enough person to not “walk out” on your parents without a damn good reason.
[Titania looks down.]
Titania: Thank you.
[pause]
Titania: Look, I want to tell you. I do. But something about putting the worst day of your life into words, and saying them out loud, and on camera—it’s—I can’t.
Nico: I know. I can’t either. It’s terrifying.
[Another pause as Nico seemingly mulls over exactly how terrifying it is, and exactly how much courage he’d need to muster up to surmount it. Finally he squeezes his eyes shut and blurts:]
Nico: A fire.
Titania: What?
[He takes a deep breath, then nervously blows on his hands.]
Nico: My parents died in a fire. Our apartment building burned down.
[Titania has gone white.]
Nico: I wasn’t there when it happened. [His agitation dissipates as he settles into the memory.] I was at the skate park. I heard sirens and saw the fire trucks go by, but I didn’t run home until my neighbor saw me and told me what was happening.
What surprised me the most was that the flames were—they were big, but they weren’t huge. I’d never seen a fire in real life before, but it just—it seemed manageable, you know? Like anyone could run in there and scoop up everyone inside, no problem.
[He swallows]
And not to say anything bad against the firefighters—they were doing everything they were supposed to do, spraying the water, getting lots of people out. They were great. But there was this back staircase, right? And none of them seemed to be using it, no one seemed to know it was there. I knew, though, because I used to use it to sneak out at night when I couldn’t sleep. And I thought—I mean, the flames didn’t look that big. How hard would it have been to run up there and get Mom and Dad out, if they were still alive? We lived on the fifth floor of a six-story building. That’s a lot of stairs, and those firefighters were beefed-up guys with a lot of equipment. It would have been a lot easier for a skinny, fast kid to dart up there instead.
[He stops.]
Titania: But you didn’t go.
Nico: No. I got scared. I hesitated, as usual. And they died. And—look, I know they probably would have anyway. I get that. But I saw my chance and I didn’t take it. I’ll never know what would have happened if I did.
Titania: You might have died too.
Nico: Maybe. Maybe not. I just—
[He runs his hands through his hair.]
Nico: A staggeringly overwhelming percentage of my life has been dictated by fear. Fear of talking to people, fear of speaking up, fear of taking action. I don’t know why. But it’s always been there, blinding me like a stoplight. And most times, it’s little stuff. Not raising my hand at school, not asking a girl out. But this was the one time it mattered. Really mattered. And I just stood there.
And I did nothing.
[Though the camera is not at an angle that could confirm it, it seems that Titania adjusts the position of her feet— presumably to touch them to Nico’s.]
Source: Camera #2—Flight Deck
[The room is dim, the only light that of the Windows Window.]
[Suddenly the room gets brighter. A chime sounds.]
[It stays that way for ten seconds, then goes dark again.]
Source: Camera #7—Confessional Closet
Titania: But you weren’t scared to come on this show. That’s something.
Nico: I don’t know. The longer we’re here, the more I feel like I made a mistake. My life is back there. My future is back there. My parents gave up everything to come to this country—and then, what, I
just cut and run? Just like that? It’s the total opposite of what they would have wanted me to do.
[After a moment of silence, Nico exhales roughly.]
Nico: Anyway, that’s it. My big sob story.
Titania: [quietly] Thank you for telling me. I’ve always hated when people say that it’s “brave” to open up and talk about stuff like that, but . . . that was brave.
Nico: It wasn’t.
Titania: Yes, it was. I honestly don’t know how you just did that. I wish I could.
Nico: If I can, you can. It actually felt kind of good.
Titania: Yeah?
Nico: Yeah. And whatever it is, I won’t judge. Promise.
[There is an expectant, uncomfortable lull. Titania opens her mouth, closes it. This repeats several times as the urge to divulge something profound surges, then subsides. Finally she gives her head a firm shake.]
Titania: No. I can’t.
Nico: But—
[Titania stands abruptly.]
Titania: Leave it, Nico. We’re done.
Nico: Wait—
Titania: [snarling] Stop.
[Nico is taken aback. He says nothing, just watches as she slams the door on her way out. He stays seated on the floor, his knees folded to his chest, head down. After about ten minutes he gets up and leaves the room.]
Source: Camera #2—Flight Deck
[Nico peeks in, then walks into the lounge once he sees Titania sitting on one of the swivel chairs on the flight deck, watching the stars fly past the Windows Window.]
Nico: Hey. Are you okay?
Titania: Yeah.
[Nico takes the other seat. They swivel for a while without speaking, until Titania decidedly turns away from the Windows Window.]
Titania: I can’t look at that thing anymore. It pisses me off. Nico: [swiveling in solidarity until he, too, is facing the bar] Then behold the cleansing waters of the hot tub, shimmering boldly in the moonlight.
[Titania lets out a snort.]
Nico: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you.
Titania: Don’t worry, that wasn’t even close to real pushing. [She rubs her eyes. When she speaks next, her voice is bitter.] I should know; it’s what I do. Needle and prod until I get my way. It’s gotten me into more trouble than you can imagine.
[She snorts again, this time at herself.]
Titania: And here I thought this was my chance to escape. Go somewhere new. Keep moving, keep exploring—that’s the family motto. But this—[She gestures to the empty room] this is more of a dead end than an escape.
Nico: You don’t think we’re really in space.
Titania: At first I did. I wanted to. But that’s becoming less and less likely. You can only keep lying to yourself for so long—
Nico: Before common sense kicks in.
Titania: Right.
[They fall silent. Titania pulls her feet up on the stool and puts her head down on her knees, while Nico swivels around to look out the Windows Window.]
[Once again, the room slightly brightens]
Nico: Oh my God. [tapping Titania’s elbow] Look.
[Titania raises her head and follows his gaze]
Titania: What the . . .
[They watch the Windows Window for a few more seconds. Their faces morph from shock to confusion to despair. Only when the last trace of hope fades from their expressions do a pair of bittersweet smiles creep in. Hushed, dry laughter fills the air.]
Nico: Wow.
Titania: Well, there it is.
Nico: Should we tell the others?
Titania: Nah. Not yet. Let them keep believing what they want to believe. This can be our little secret.
[They both get up and dazedly make their way back into the bedroom, shaking their heads as the room darkens once again. The screen displays nothing but stars now, with no trace of the error message.]
Episode #3
Item: Transcript of video broadcast
Source: Waste of Space, Episode #3
Date aired: February 11, 2016
[START OF ACT ONE]
[Serving as a reminder of the previous week’s episode, a confessional montage illustrates the Spacetronauts’ reactions to Hibiscus’s departure. Clever editing strikes all the right dramatic notes while at the same time eschewing the acutely real fear that they experienced.]
Source: Camera #7—Confessional Closet
Matt: I’m like, what happened? The ship plucked her up and spit her out the door!
Snout: Poor thing never saw it coming.
Bacardi: [sits down and stares off into space for a few seconds, then recognizes the camera] Oh! Sorry, I thought this was the bathroom. [looks down] Oops.
Nico: This changes everything. You can’t help but think, who’s next? How safe are we up here, really?
Snout: Can’t believe she’s gone. Real nice girl.
Colonel Bacon: [squeal]
Snout: That’s right, buddy. She was a kind soul. We’re all gonna miss her something fierce.
Clayton: DING-DONG! THE HIPPIE’S DEAD!
Louise: [looking smug] Guess she didn’t have what it takes.
Bacardi: Before she left, Eye Piss Kiss told me, “Bacardi, if anything ever happens to me, I want you to have my stash of mushrooms.” So I did ’em all, in her honor. [blinking dreamily] Now I can smell music!
Jamarkus: I think it would be best to treat this as a learning experience and move forward, ever stronger, as a unified team.
Bacardi: [sniffing] Beyoncé?
Of course, it’s not all tense introspection and halfhearted eulogies. Once the Spacetronauts learn what’s at stake, the campaigning begins. They realize they’ll need to crank up the charm to convince the viewers to keep them around—and they’ll have to throw others under the bus to thin out the competition.
[The confessional montage continues.]
Louise: Look, I’m not saying that my fellow shipmates are dingbats—just that they’re dingbats when it comes to space stuff. I mean, what if the ship falls into the hands of an alien intelligence—one that’s far, far more advanced than we? When it comes down to a battle of wits between us and a highly evolved Gavinjian genius, do we really want someone like Snout at the helm?
Bacardi: D’you want gossip? I gots—goss—got gossip.
Jamarkus: I am a tad concerned about the cleanliness of this ship. I’ve been trying to keep things tidy and hygienic, but there’s only so much one man can do about hair clogging up the shower drain. I would never speak ill of my beloved space brethren, but where I come from, girls with long, unruly hair and a careless attitude and little consideration for others and a questionable grasp on sobriety would never be considered for a mission as important as this. Our drainpipes deserve better!
Bacardi: Justa put the record straight, Snout’s the one who clogged the toilet. I only made it worse.
Clayton: Jamarkus is so full of shit. I can see it right there on his face, with his empty smile and clueless eyes. He doesn’t deserve to be leader. I do. But you already know that, don’t you, America? You’re not feeble-minded automatons like the rest of the imbeciles up here. You’re smart. You know who to keep around. You know who deserves to be here.
Bacardi: Kaoru is a computer. [She cups her hand over her mouth and speaks in a stage whisper] That’s why she speaks computer.
Snout: This sure is a sturdy ship. With all the beatings it’s been taking, it’s a testament to the hardworking craftsmen and craftswomen of America that it’s still in one piece. And to the brave troops serving our country overseas, too. I’d like to tip my hat to each one of them. So would Colonel Bacon!
Colonel Bacon: [squeal]
Nico: There’s something about Clayton. He’s really vicious. So pushy and greedy and wants to be the first to do everything and won’t let anyone get in his way. I think he might be dangerous.
Bacardi: Louise is doing something secret. I seen her alone in the bedroom, under her blanket with a flashlight and a screwdriver. Where’d she get a screwdri
ver? [pouting] I’d like a screwdriver.
Matt: Vote me out. Please. I want to get off this ship!
Titania: Let me stay. Please. I don’t want to go back. I can’t go back.
Kaoru: {I do not know how the lucky ones are chosen to be removed from this place, but I hope that I will be granted the privilege soon. I do not wish to be fondled by the robot arm, but if that is the only way out, I will endure it.}
Bacardi: Clayton is a jerk.
Snout: [humming the national anthem]
Bacardi: Matt is a communist.
Louise: I’m the only one who can save us.
Bacardi: Colonel Bacon is a breakfast.
Clayton: You have no idea what’s at stake here.
Bacardi: Nico and Titania are tooootally doing it. They’re always together, talking private talks, and youknow what? I saw them banging on the pool table. Balls everywhere! ALL KINDS OF BALLS. Black balls, blue balls—oh wait. No. That was the time I got banned for life from the ChuckECheeseballpit. [hand cupped around mouth again] But I still bet they’re tooootally doing it!
Nico: I guess I want to stick around, though. I really could use the money.
Titania: Please don’t vote me out.
Clayton: Don’t you dare vote me out.
Louise: I will literally kill myself if you vote me out.
Bacardi: [sniffing] Kanye?
But what happens in the Confessional Closet stays in the Confessional Closet. To one another’s faces, the cast members remain strategically silent. They know how to keep things close to the vest. They know how to play the game.
Source: Camera #5—Spa
[Bacardi and Clayton are making out in one corner of the hot tub while Louise longingly (and creepily) watches them from another. Titania stands a few feet away, not partaking of the hot tub at all. Arms crossed, she inspects the cedar planks lining the walls, which have become bumpy and misshapen.]
Bacardi: [coming up for air from Clayton’s lips, then sighing dreamily] This is nice.
Clayton: It would be nice, if that freaknugget over there weren’t staring at us.
