by Stephen Fry
MICHAEL and STEVE are sitting in front of a computer. STEVE is pressing the screen.
They both talk in rather false voices, for the benefit of any listening devices that may be in the room.
STEVE
Gee, Mikey. It’s really strange that you still can’t remember how to use the system.
MICHAEL
I know. It’s all kind of coming back slowly. But I’m real grateful to you for helping me out.
They grin at each other like naughty schoolboys at the stupid formality of their speech.
STEVE
No problem. Let’s have a look at your work files, shall we?
The screen has some permanent icons around the edge: the central area is made up of pages. STEVE presses an icon and a number of buff-colored folders appear, with titles on their tabs.
MICHAEL
So this is, what, like on the Internet then?
STEVE
Excuse me?
MICHAEL
This computer is connected to other computers in a network?
STEVE
Right. This is not a computer, Mikey. This is a Pad.
MICHAEL
Um . . . Pad?
STEVE
Personal Access Device. The computers are way across the other side of campus. The Pad is how you get at your stuff.
MICHAEL
Oh yes. Pad. I get you. Of course. But how do I type into it?
STEVE
Why would you wanna do that?
MICHAEL
Well, don’t I do my work on it? You know, word-processing, letters, assignments, stuff like that?
STEVE
You just talk to it.
MICHAEL
Oh, that’s right. I talk into it. It knows my voice?
STEVE
Sure it knows your voice.
MICHAEL
Then why isn’t it typing in what we’re saying?
STEVE laughs and slaps MICHAEL playfully on the shoulder.
STEVE
You touch the talk glyph, dummy.
We see the screen now. There is an icon device at the top left of the screen: this is the speech icon, known as a talk glyph.
STEVE (CONT’D)
Okay, when you touch the talk glyph, it brightens, see? And everything you say is either a command or text to be typed in. Then you touch it again, to dull it, and you can talk without it taking down everything you say. Now I can see you’ve got work stuff here. You’ve got notes on Hegel, right? So press the talk glyph and say “Find Hegel notes,” or “find my notes on Hegel,” anything like that. If there’s more than one of something, it’ll put up the options and you touch the one you want. It’s real simple.
MICHAEL
(worried)
But what about this weird voice I’m talking in at the moment? This English accent?
STEVE
Shouldn’t be a problem.
MICHAEL leans forward and touches the talk glyph, which brightens.
MICHAEL
(talking to the screen: very loud and clear)
Find my notes on Hegel.
Nothing happens. STEVE touches the talk glyph to turn it off.
STEVE
Woah, woah. You don’t have to shout. Just talk in your normal voice.
MICHAEL touches the talk glyph. It brightens again.
MICHAEL
(casually)
Find my notes on Hegel.
A kind of window opens to one side and a representation of a folder instantly appears, very high resolution, with “HEGEL NOTES” written on the front and a list all down one side of different titles. “Biography,” “Dialectics,” “Hegel and Nietzsche” and so on.
MICHAEL
Wow, that is so cool!
STEVE
Okay, now touch this . . .
MICHAEL touches the screen where it says “Dialectics.” A page of very high resolution, clear, anti-aliased text opens elegantly. It is a list of notes on Hegel and dialectics.
STEVE
Okay, so if you need to change anything, you just touch it. Then you touch the talk glyph and say what you want to say. You can’t miss.
MICHAEL looks at a whole area of text that reads:
TEXT
The first deduction gains the ideas of Nothing and Becoming from the idea of Being. We begin with the idea of Being, since there can be no idea more general than this. Applying to all there is, Being seems to have great fullness of meaning. And yet, because it makes no distinctions, the idea of Being reveals its emptiness, turning into its opposite, Nothing. But, then, the passage of Nothing into Being is what we mean by Becoming. In this manner we have derived the first three of Hegel’s 272 categories.
MICHAEL
These are my notes?
STEVE
Sure.
MICHAEL
Wow. I’m a genius!
MICHAEL leans forward and touches the first sentence: “The first deduction gains the ideas of Nothing and Becoming from the idea of Being.” Next he touches the talk glyph and speaks.
MICHAEL
This is just about the most coolest thing I’ve ever seen.
Instantly, the text now reads: “This is just about the most coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”
MICHAEL
Wow! Wicked. Totally wicked.
The text now reads: “This is just about the most coolest thing I’ve ever seen. Wow! Wicked. Totally wicked.” STEVE laughs and touches the screen.
STEVE
You forgot to turn off the talk glyph.
MICHAEL
How does it know to punctuate?
STEVE
It doesn’t always get it right. But it knows about inflection and pauses and stuff like that.
(recalling that they might be being overheard)
Are you sure you don’t remember any of this?
MICHAEL
Oh. Yeah. Sure. It’s coming back. It’s all coming back. I’d just forgotten how cool it is. How neat. You know, real neat. But what’s this . . . ?
He points to a panel that says “Double superlative?”
STEVE
It’s questioning the phrase “most coolest” on account of it’s a double superlative.
MICHAEL
(shaking his head in wonder)
Wow!
STEVE
Sure.
MICHAEL
Okay. So. Suppose I’d gotten a book from the library and downloaded it onto one of those . . .
STEVE
Flashed it to a cart, you mean?
MICHAEL
Yeah. Flashed it to a cart.
STEVE quietly picks up the carts from MICHAEL’s bag. They have the titles scribbled on in MICHAEL’s hand, Gloder: The Early Years and so on.
STEVE
Well what you do is insert the cart . . .
He pushes the cart into the cart port below the screen.
STEVE (CONT’D)
A glyph appears on screen.
Indeed, we see on the screen that this is so. A representative icon in the shape of a cart.
STEVE (CONT’D)
. . . you touch the glyph and . . . simsalabim!
The glyph zooms open and pages of the book Gloder: The Early Years appear, perfectly reproduced, on the screen.
STEVE (CONT’D)
To go through the pages, you touch the arrows here, see? Or use the talk glyph to go to any page you want.
MICHAEL
And I can use this text, move it about, incorporate it in my own notes?
STEVE
Sure. The data on the cart will delete itself after two weeks. And any data you use in an assignment is automatically fo
otnoted, copyrighted and placed in a bibliography at the end. To stop cheating, you know, copyright violation, that kind of thing?
MICHAEL
And where is all my work? I mean where actually, physically, does it exist?
STEVE
Hell, I don’t know. Somewhere in the computing lab, I guess.
MICHAEL
But suppose I was writing letters home, personal stuff, diaries, that kind of thing?
STEVE
If you touch the privacy glyph here, no one but you can read it.
MICHAEL
Great. So now I can get on with my work. I can write essays and assignments and . . . how do I print them out?
STEVE
You just flash them to a cart and take them to a print room somewhere. There’s one in every faculty building, every dorm building. Nothing to it.
MICHAEL
This is so cool. I always knew Windows 95 was complete shit, but . . .
STEVE
Excuse me?
MICHAEL
Nothing, nothing. How long has all this been around? That is, I seem to have forgotten . . .
STEVE
This? This is ancient. This is a copy of a seventies European system. But you should see what’s on the way. There’s a German defector over here called Krause, Kai Krause. The stuff he’s coming up with would just send you spinning. I saw a demo at the computer lab one time.
(looking at the screen)
Now, if you ever need to send a message, here’s what you do.
STEVE touches a message glyph at the side of the screen. The pages of text up on screen shrink neatly into themselves, and a new screen is revealed behind. An array of beautifully designed glyphs.
STEVE
Touch the talk glyph and say your own name.
MICHAEL
(touching the talk glyph)
Michael Young
On screen two Michael Youngs appear. STEVE touches the talk glyph to turn it off.
STEVE
Oh-oh, you’ve got a double. You’re this one, “Young, Michael D.” The other guy’s just plain Young, Michael, no initial. ’Sides, he’s a freshman. See? That’s his class year next to his name.
STEVE touches the name YOUNG, MICHAEL D. A small panel appears.
MICHAEL
That’s me! 303, Henry Hall! What are all these icons?
STEVE
Glyphs, they’re glyphs, Mikey. You touch this one to open an info pane, this one to make a voice call, this one to page, this one to leave a message on someone else’s Pad.
MICHAEL
Like an email? Electronic mail, that kind of thing?
STEVE
Flashmail. You can either flash a voice message or a text message. This is how you place a phone call.
MICHAEL leans forward and touches the phone glyph. Instantly, a telephone on the desk next to the screen rings.
MICHAEL
Jesus!
STEVE
Congratulations, you just called yourself. You can call me or anyone on campus this way. Live talk person-to-person, or, if you touch this glyph, leave a text message.
MICHAEL picks up the phone and examines it. It is not quite like any phone he has ever seen. It is cordless, but not like most mobile phones. More of a mix between a phone and a pager.
STEVE touches the phone glyph again and the ringing stops.
STEVE
That’s your mobile compad. Now, I’ll show you how to leave flashmail.
STEVE touches the flashmail glyph. A window opens on the screen.
STEVE
Leave yourself a message.
STEVE puts down the compad and presses the talk glyph. He turns to MICHAEL and indicates for him to speak.
MICHAEL
(to the terminal)
Hiya, Mikey, how you doing? Good to see you the other night. Feel like going over to see the Yankee game next week? Catchalater, love Mikey.
STEVE presses the talk glyph again to deactivate it. Then he presses the flashmail glyph and the window disappears.
The computer gives a friendly, purring beep and a window flashes on screen. “Flashmail waiting . . .” MICHAEL touches the flashmail glyph and a window opens: it says “FLASHMAIL WAITING FOR MICHAEL D. YOUNG, FROM MICHAEL D. YOUNG.” Michael’s own voice comes out perfectly from the speakers at either side of the screen.
SPEAKERS
Hiya, Mikey, how you doing? Good to see you the other night. Feel like going over to see the Yankee game next week? Catchalater, love Mikey.
MICHAEL
(awestruck)
Hot ziggety-dang!
STEVE
(shrugging)
There you go. Lesson over.
They continue to talk for the benefit of any possible hidden listening devices.
MICHAEL
(standing up and stretching)
Gosh, Steve. I don’t know how to thank you.
STEVE
(also standing)
Hey, don’t thank me. It means you haven’t got any excuse now not to get back to work.
They are facing each other. STEVE is looking into MICHAEL’s eyes.
MICHAEL
(embarrassed)
So . . .
STEVE
(also slightly awkward)
Right. Well, I guess I’d better be . . .
MICHAEL, surprising himself, silently pulls STEVE toward him. He puts a hand on his cheek.
STEVE stares at MICHAEL, unable to move. The feeling of MICHAEL’s hand on his cheek is like an electric shock.
MICHAEL
(whispering, hardly audible)
I mean it, really . . . thanks.
He leans forward and kisses STEVE on the lips.
STEVE puts his arms around MICHAEL’s neck and holds him tightly.
MICHAEL suddenly ends the kiss and pulls away. He goes to the door, opens it and says, in a clear voice.
MICHAEL
Good night then, Steve.
STEVE
(disappointed, hurt)
Right . . . sure. G’night.
MICHAEL immediately closes the door loudly, before STEVE has had a chance to leave. MICHAEL puts a finger to his lips.
STEVE suddenly understands. He smiles in radiant relief, pure love and joy in his eyes.
They embrace.
FADE TO:
EXT. QUANTUM MECHANICS BUILDING—LATE AFTERNOON
STEVE is by the chestnut tree again, bicycle leaning up beside it. He is reading. He looks up toward the entrance to the building. Nothing. He yawns and looks up at the sky, dreamily contented. He stretches a hand for his nylon bag and takes out a compad, like the one we saw in MICHAEL’s room: a phone and pager combined.
STEVE smiles to himself as he taps its keys.
CUT TO:
INT. MICHAEL’S ROOMS—SAME TIME
MICHAEL is at the Pad, touching glyphs on the screen with great rapidity and assurance now.
Panes appear and reappear on-screen, zooming and cutting and mixing. We catch sight of large sections of text being highlighted and moved around. The name “Gloder” appears a great deal.
Suddenly, on the screen, a panel appears accompanied by a PURRING BEEP: “Flashmail waiting . . .”
Surprised: Michael touches the screen.
A window opens: “Flashmail from S. Burns, Dickinson Hall 105.”
MICHAEL reads the text.
MESSAGE
You are so cool . . . XXX
MICHAEL smiles to himself and closes the window. He touches some more parts of the screen.
CUT TO:
EXT. QUANTUM MECHANICS BUILDING—SAME TIME
STEVE stands suddenly and looks towards the entra
nce of the Quantum Mechanics building.
We see, from his POV, LEO, we’ll still call him that, emerging from the building, briefcase in hand.
STEVE scrambles to his bike, throws the book into the nylon bag and hoists the bag over his shoulder.
ANOTHER ANGLE:
LEO is walking towards the car-park. In the background we see STEVE wheeling casually around in circles behind him.
LEO goes to a car, a small dark blue convertible, and drops his briefcase onto the passenger seat.
CUT TO:
LEO driving out of the car-park and STEVE pedaling furiously behind him.
CUT TO:
STEVE, crouched low over the handlebars, concentrating on the car ahead.
Suddenly, we hear a BEEP-BEEP-BEEP come from the nylon bag over his shoulder.
CUT TO:
EXT. NASSAU STREET, PRINCETON—SAME TIME
LEO is in westbound traffic, waiting at a stoplight, tapping the steering wheel. Two cars behind him, casually leaning against a parking meter, is STEVE.
With one eye keeping a watch on LEO’s car, STEVE digs out his compad and presses a button. We see the readout.
READOUT
You are one bitching, slamming, waycool dude yourself . . . XXX
STEVE gives a grin, wide as a tree frog’s. Then he looks up quickly. The lights have turned green and the traffic is starting to move.
The compad still in his hand, STEVE cycles after the traffic.
Fortunately it is Princeton’s rush hour. There’s enough of a line of traffic on the road to allow STEVE to keep LEO in sight.
LEO proceeds west along Nassau and then peels off left. STEVE follows.
CUT TO:
INT. MICHAEL’S ROOM, HENRY HALL—SAME TIME
MICHAEL is still busy working. A message comes up: “Cart full!
MICHAEL ejects the cart and replaces it with another. While he is labeling the full cart, another PURRING BEEP comes from the terminal. “Flashmail waiting!” MICHAEL touches the screen and reads the text:
MESSAGE
Bingo—quarry located . . . XXX
PS: Is “bitching” good?
MICHAEL smiles and touches the screen.
CUT TO:
EXT. MERCER STREET, PRINCETON—SAME TIME
STEVE has leaned his bike against a tree and is standing opposite a house.
We see the blue convertible parked there and the number on the door, 22.
There is a beeping sound.
STEVE gets out his communicator.
READOUT
Good work! I’ve got printing to do. A & B, 7:00 p.m.?
