Novels
Mens toilets. Ben is by the
washing basins with the girl, doing nose-bleed type remedies to her. She is struggling a bit.
Ben: Look, try and keep.. I mean, I don't know if your nose is
broken or what, but... Look, can you understand a word I'm...
Girl: Yes, I can, but it is-
Ben: Will you keep your head back?
(
Doing so; holding the hankey in
place herself. She starts to speak
quickly but clearly, with a strange accent).
I did not know if you would understand me.
I did not know if you spoke English.
It is so hard to find... Oh, never mind.
Ben: What, hard to find English speakers in York?
Yeah, it can be.
Girl: No, I did not mean - I mean, do you speak proper English?
Ben: Well, I mix metaphors and probably confuse syntax and contax,
whatever they are, but it's up there with the Queen otherwise.
Girl: The
Queen? Oh, right, the Queen.
Yes.
Good.
I think my bleeding has
stopped.
(She removes the hanky and stares at herself in the mirror. Apart from her nose, there are nasty bruises
on her forehead and round her eyes).
Yes.
It has.
Ben: Good.
Er, are you
gonna be alright now.
Girl: Yes, I am - I'm gonna be alright.
(Pause).
Hmmm.
Shit.
Fuck.
Bugger.
Does that sound alright?
Ben: (Awkwardly) Well,
not very ladylike, but under the circumstances, I guess so.
Girl: Right.
(She pauses a while longer, then turns and
starts surveying the washroom intently.
She then stares calculatingly at Ben, who shuffles uneasily) Right.
Newspaper.
I need a newspaper.
Do you have
a newspaper?
Ben: What?
Erm, I'm-
Girl: (Starting).
Oh, shit.
No, forget it.
Forget I-
Ben: No, it's alright, but... I don't have a newspaper, no.
Sorry.
You'll have to buy one.
Girl: Right.
I see.
(
Walks
to the door, then turns and shrugs apologetically).
I need a newspaper.
Ben: (Dazed).
Well, who doesn't.
Erm.
Girl: Look, do I look alright?
To you?
Ben: Er.. Well, to be honest you look like Bruno after he fought
Tyson.
Either time.
Girl: What?
Oh, right,
fought.
You mean my bruises.
Ben: Yes.
I didn't mean
you looked like a massive black heavyweight fighter.
Girl: But apart from my bruises..?
Ben: (Awkwardly) Well, yeah, you know.
You look fine, type of thing.
Girl: Right.
(She nods and vanishes out the door. Ben stands for a few minutes, starting
puzzled; then, still in thought heads for the urinals. He is about to take his 'chap' out when the
door opens again and the girl pokes her head round it and says "Um." Ben hurriedly zips up his flies, blushing.
Girl: Thank you by the way.
For helping me.
Back there.
Ben: What?
Oh, right, er,
no problem, anytime.
Hope - Er, hang on
(
as she was about to vanish again.) England drew last night.
0-0.
Girl: What?
Ben: The Croatia match.
0-0.
Shocker of a game as well.
Isn't that why you wanted a newspaper?
Girl: No, that isn't why I wanted a newspaper.
But thank you for telling me.
Outside
the Minster on an overcast summers day.
A good flock of tourists are flapping about. The girl is leant against the side of the Minster, staring
intently around and muttering quietly to herself. A scrap of newspaper is screwed up in her hand. Ben comes out of the Minster, pauses to
light a cigarette and sees her. He
walks over and stares at her for a while with a mixture of embarrassment and
concern.
Ben: Found your -
(The girl
yelps in surprise and fiddles behind her ear as she tries to readjust)
Girl: Shit.
Ben: Fuck.
Bugger.
(Smiling).
Shit, fuck, bugger, yes.
You startled me.
Ben: Yes, sorry.
Bad
habit.
Girl: What were you-
Ben: Found your newspaper.
Girl: Oh, yes.
Found my
newspaper.
(She flourishes it smiling. In
general she seems more at ease than earlier, in contrast to Ben, who is
fidgeting again.)
Ben: Erm...Look, are you planning to go and see doctors and things
or what?
I mean, you whacked your head
pretty hard there, and when you start whacking your head...
Girl: (Grinning) You think I'm being weird do you?
Ben: Well, you know... Maybe a bit odd, at-
Girl: Because I hit my head.
The head has always been given special status in our medical
history.
In the real old times, even
for fairly minor ailments, even those not head-related, do you know what they
did?
They drilled a hole in the
skull.
Drilled a nice neat hole through
the skull, as simple as that.
Ben: To let out the evil spirits.
Yes, I did know that.
Girl: And do you know if it ever worked?
Ben: I don't, no.
The
whole area is something I try my hardest to avoid learning about.
Girl: Don't worry about me.
I haven't got concussion.
For me,
this is normal.
Why is this road
empty?
I've been watching it.
A perfectly good road... And this is the Age
of the Car as well.
Edge of town
shopping centre, stationary traffic on the M25.
And not a single car on this road.
Ben: Oh, right, well they're actually banned from it.
Girl: Banned?
From-
Ben: Yeah, well, you see this here Minster
The Ouse bank. Ben and the girl are walking slowly along,
carrying a plastic cup and a paper bag each.
Girl: Danish
pastry and coffee.
Is that not
American?
Ben: 'Are
we not men'.
I don't know.
Is it American?
Girl: I
think they have it for breakfast.
(
She sits on the arm of a bench, Ben beside
her. They look out across the river and
begin to eat.)
Ben: Leave
such excesses to the Americans.
Well,
you know all the hidden influences, flying to and fro across the ocean.
It wasn't meant to be an American lunch,
just a cheap lunch.
Though there was no
need to pay for mine as well.
Girl: (Absently, shrugging). You stop my
nosebleed, I buy you lunch.
(
Starts, then more forcefully:) Sorry, I
forgot to ask your name.
I should have
asked your name shouldn't I?
Ben: Well,
I don't know.
I can't imagine it
blighting your life not knowing it.
It's Ben, Ben Luckhurst.
Girl: Well,
pleased to meet - Ben
Luckhurst?
From St Albans way?
Ben: No,
Ben Luckhurst from York way.
Girl: I
mean your family.
Your family comes
from St Albans?
Ben: I
wouldn't say that.
My family comes from
what can only be summed up as Britain.
Dad
from Cleethorpes, mum from Preston, gran from Aberdeen and so on.
Girl: A
wandering family then?
Ben: That's
one way to describe them.
There are
others.
If you meant, where did the
first Luckhurst stride forth into the world, I haven't a clue.
Girl: Hmmm.
Ben: So,
what's your name then?
Girl: Oh,
me?
(
She gives a rather enigmatic smile). Never mind who I am.
Ben: Oh,
right, I see.
I have to give a blow-by-blow account of my whole family tree,
whereas
you get off with an enigmatic
smile and a Clint Eastwood line?
Girl: That's
right.
I don't like having a fixed
name.
Fixed name, fixed identity,
right?
That's not for me.
I'm a wanderer, just like your family.
Going from place to place, each new place a
new name and a new identity.
Ben: (
Puzzled but rather amused).
What the hell do you mean, a new identity?
Girl: What
I said.
New background, new past, new
present.
It's not deception.
I'm telling you beforehand, like I usually
tell people.
And one day, someone might
draw the right one, who knows?
Ben: Hang
on, you mean you just
invent a
different life-story for yourself, everytime you go somewhere new?
Girl: That's
what I like to do.
Ben: Every
time?
Completely separate?
Girl: As
separate as I can manage.
(Pause) It's just how I travel.
It's easier.
Ben: So,
what, you're having to constantly re-invent yourself.
Is this just so you can fit in better or something?
Because-
Girl: No,
not always.
Sometimes it's so I fit in
worse.
That's part of the fun.
Ben: Fun? You find it fun?
I'd go off my tree.
Girl: (After a pause in which she silently mouths
this last sentence, frowning).
That's also part of the fun.
Controlling it.
Controlling all
your little lives.
Keeping them
separate from each other.
Keeping them
separate from who you really are in here.
Ben: Oh,
right.
So that doesn't change from town
to town then?
Girl: Of
course not.
Who you are never
changes.
That's the whole point.
Ben: It
seems to me that if you're basically stuck with yourself despite all these
contortions the whole point goes out of the window.
Girl: (Shrugging).
Maybe I like myself better than you like yourself.
Ben: You
know, I could spend half an hour demolishing that argument alone, but as I'm a
gentleman I won't.
So come on
then.
What's the new biography for
York.
Girl: Don't
know yet.
Maybe there won't be
one.
I'm not planning to stay here for
long.
Ben: Ah,
out of the madness comes sanity.
Not
even so much as a name then?
Girl: You
give me one.
It's a sort of
custom.
I let other people give me a new
name and I do the rest.
Ben: That
custom is at risk of grave exploitation you know.
Girl: No,
something serious.
Here
(she pulls the newspaper page out of her
pocket and passes it to Ben.) I kept my newspaper.
Chose one from there.
(We should be looking over Ben's shoulder at the paper, most of which
is taken up by a topless model).
Ben: Oh,
good grief.
You know I shouldn't even
be glancing - hey, this is the
Sunday
Sport. I'm actually having to read
a page of the
Sunday Sport.
How are the mighty fallen or what?
Right, just for that I shall christen you
after the - well, not the Page 3 girl in the
Sunday Sport is it?
Pages
one to fifty inclusive.
How does Tina
grab you?
As in Tasty Tina's Terrific
Tits.
Girl: Tina?
Fine.
Great.
(She does a double take at the newspaper).
Tasty Tina's Terrific Tits?
Ben: I
know.
It's a single entendre isn't
it?
It doesn't mean anything else, it's
just rude.
They could at least have put
a bird table there or something.
(Later at night: we resume the plot when Ben sees strange lights at the
Minster at night. Goes to investigate and finds 'Tina' apparently being fired
at by a laser.
A bolt of light passes horribly close to Ben's face, hitting the far
wall with an echoey boom. He freezes in
terror, but after a few seconds is hit on the back of his knees by an unseen
person. Another light bolt passes over
him a few seconds later. He is dragged
behind a pillar and his saviour is revealed to be Tina, looking tense but
excited.
Tina: What the fuck are you -
oh, never mind. Just - hold still will
you? (The pillar shudders as several
bolts flash into it. Ben, still prone,
recoils whimpering. Tina examines his
face). No damage done. It'll feel a bit sun-burned. Now-
Ben: (Pulling himself into a crouch, looking terrified and screaming). What the fuck is happening here? I go into the Minster, suddenly it's like
being on the Death Star. What are those
things flying about, fucking thunderbolts?
Is the Bishop of Durham in town again or-
Tina: Look, will you-
Ben: I mean, just where the
fuck-
Tina: (Shouting). Shut up will you? (Quieter). What's happening is, someone's shooting at
us.
Ben: Shooting?
Tina: Yeah, and don't ask me
with what. They're not supposed to be
using those weapons here. (Poking her head around the pillar to shout)
Only someone's sodding cheating again, and I'll have her tits for it. (Another
couple of bolts hit the pillar as she ducks back). But don't worry. He wouldn't dare hurt a bystander like you. He's shooting to miss.
Ben: Shooting to miss? Well I hope he's a good shot because if he
misses shooting to miss by a few fucking inches-
Tina: Don't worry I
said. He's just trying to scare you
off. I think you should let him. Run back to the door, go out, go home. Forget about this.
(Pause. Ben, watching Tina crouched tensely, pulls
himself together a bit).
Ben: And is he aiming to
miss you?
Tina: No. That's not his aim.
Ben: Just what the fuck is
happening here?
Tina: (Grinning). Things.
Coming to a head. Look, do you
want to help me here?
Ben: Well I certainly don't
want you to get shot if that's what you mean.
Tina: Good. Well, I can't run for the door, because if I
do I will get shot. And, here's the
thing, I can't get to the altar either, because I'll also get shot. He's standing (pointing carefully) Over
by the see? Covers both routes.
Ben: Hang on - the altar?
Tina: Bear with me. Now, he wouldn't dare shoot you. Even if you ran to the altar. Remember that. And, if you do that, you could dive behind it and have a search
behind it. See just behind the gold
bit, you should find a little rectangular thing like - do you have computer
chips?
Ben: Er, well, not
personally but-
Tina: But you know what one
looks like?
Ben: Yes, I think so.
Tina: Good. It looks like a computer chip. You could pick it up and bring it back here.
Ben: And that'll help you?
Tina: That'll send me on my
way singing a merry song. Then you'll
get the explanation I know you're dying for.
Ben: That was actually
quite a poor choice of phrase.
Tina: He wouldn't dare shoot
you. Keep telling yourself that. He'll be aiming to miss. Trust me on this.
Voice: From the )
You through with skulking yet? You're
fucking trapped, admit it?
Tina: Arsehole. (She
takes something out of her pocket - we only get a glimpse of grey metal - leans
around the pillar and fires several bolts from it, the same type as the Voice
was shooting).
Voice: (After a pause, in an outraged tone). You fired at me, you stupid bitch! You can't fire at me.
Tina: Ha! Fucking report me then Boswell, you
toss-face. (Brief exchange of fire between the two then Tina turns to Ben) Go now, if you're going. Quick.
Running
to altar bit.
Tina: You get it? Where is it? (Ben collapses against the
side of the pillar, looking completely terrified, and closes his eyes. Tina shakes him). You get it?
Where is it?
Ben: (Faintly)
Not there.
Tina: Not there? Are you sure? Did you look?
Ben: (Slowly) I am sure.
Every single incident of the last few minutes I can see with complete
clarity. I will continue to do so, for
as long as I live.
Tina: Shit.
Ben: Even if that is longer
than today.
Tina: Fuck it. That-
Voice: Found yourself a
friend at last then? Bit late for that
now. Oh, a message from the boss. Be a bit more original where you hide
things. Ready to give up now?
Tina: (To
herself). Sod
it. Bloody stupid idea anyway. Bloody Garlin and his bloody hidey
holes. Right then. (To Ben). Now - hey, are
you listening? (She prods Ben, who opens
his eyes) Now, for what I'm going
to do, we need to be over there.
The ,see? Short sprint, you'll only be under fire a
few seconds, OK? Now (she hauls him up) Get ready.
Hello? You know where to go, do
you?
Ben: Er... the, the
Tina: Right. As quick as you can. Now go.
Voice: Oh Cal-ly, I'm
getting-
Tina: (Again
leaning round and firing. With her
other hand she shoves the motionless Ben out). Go! (Turns
to fire again; turning back she sees Ben proceeding in a slow dazed stagger). Run you stupid - oh sod it. (Dives
after Ben, grabs him and hauls him in the direction of the .
Bolts flashing around them, Tina firing back, probably collisions into
things etc. Eventually they dive behind
a wall. Tina furiously hisses) When I said run, what I meant was - oh, forget it. (She peers round the corner; a silhouette
can be seen making its way, crouching, up the aisle. Tina fires several shots at it and it leaps for cover behind the
rows of chairs. Tina watches for a few
seconds, biting her lip, then looks round at Ben, who is stood in a trance.) Ben.
Ben!
Ben: Um.
Tina: Look at me. This is a gun. (She presses it in his hand).
You know, a gun.
Ben: A gun.
Tina: You know what a gun
is. (Pause). Ben!
Ben: Yes... I know, a....
Tina: Right. This (she
presses his finger up and the gun fires brightly. Ben shies back, whimpering).
Is the trigger. That's how you
fire the gun. You try it. (Ben
does, and Tina manoeuvres him so the gun is peeking round the corner, vaguely
facing the altar). Now fire and
keep firing until I tell you to stop.
This'll take a few minutes.
Do
preparations for time travel bit.
Tina: (Tapping
Ben on the shoulder).
Ben?
Ben: Yur?
Tina: You can stop now. (He
does, and turns to see Tina's preparations.
Ben: Er...
Tina: Don't ask. Now, I'm going to get in a lot of trouble
for this, but it's the only way out.
Oh, and it might make a bit of the roof fall in.
Ben: (For
some reason this shakes Ben out of his trance). The roof
might fall in. The fucking roof might
fall in?
Tina: Well, only a bit of
it. Now -
Ben: Now nothing. Once the fucking roof starts to fall in it
won't know where to stop you know.
Tina: Stop fretting about your
bloody Minster will you. It's not a
matchstick house you know. They built
these places to last. Now- (There is suddenly a lot of shouting from
the pain part of the Minster; along the lines of "What are you up to
sunshine?" though not that, obviously.
Sirens can be heard from outside.
Tina glances round the corner, then says blankly to Ben). The
police. You called the police.
Ben: What? Now, I never... No, Lakbir did. That's it.
Lakbir went to get the police. I
came in here and Lakbir went-
Tina: OK, OK, I get it. (Pause;
she stares speculatively at him).
OK. The police find you here,
you'll have to explain things to them.
Somehow I don't think you're up to that. Better come with me. OK?
Ben: Erm.
Tina: Right. (She
takes the gun off him and stows it away in her pocket, then links her arm
tightly around Ben's.) Now hold
bloody tight to me OK. There's gonna be
a big lurch, mainly in your stomach.
You ever been fired out of a siege catapult?
Ben: What?
Tina: Only feeling that
comes close. We'll hit the ground at a
quick pace, so get ready to run. (She pulls the gizmo out of her pocket).. Now count to three.
Ben: Er.. one. Two.
Tina: (Pecking
him on the cheek, grinning).
Trust me. This is gonna be the
greatest moment of your life. Now say
three.
Ben: Three. (Tina presses the button, there is a loud
bang, then they are both propelled long the floor, career into a tomb. They lay winded against it for a bit. The Minster isn't as dark as before, and
completely silent.)
Tina: Ow. Shit. Well, that went as well as it could I guess. You OK?
Ben: Er... I think so.
Tina: Right. You know, I really shouldn't have done that.
Ben: What did...Hang on,
that was it? The greatest moment of my
life. You let off a firecracker and the
ground goes weird?
Tina: Well, it needs
footnotes. Right, wait here, I won't be
long. (She starts to walk towards the altar.)
Ben: Tina! Don't-
Tina: It's OK. They're not here. Look, will you? No
gunman, no police, no-one. Just us.
Ben: Wh- You mean they're
gone?
Tina: Mm, not quite
that. But they're not here. (She
walks up to the altar, feels behind it and pulls out a small rectangular
object, quite like a computer chip).
Ha. So this is cheating is it,
Jess? (Walking back). Who turned the rules into broad guidelines
in the first place, eh? Hey, Ben! Quick stop off back to pick this up again,
then we're out for good. Let's see
now..(She looks around, sees a tomb of a
bishop). Old eh?
Nasty old fuckwit he was. (Slides the chip in a gap between the side
and lid) You know Jess, some'll say
pinching the technology's not only banned, it's not very sodding original
either. Ben, where the hell are you
skulking. I told - oh shit. (The
main door he entered, which had been shut, is now open and Ben can be seen
wandering out.) Ben, wait for
Christ's sake. You can't go out
there. Ben! (She eventually reaches the door.
Ben hasn't gone far, standing outside, looking around dazed. Though still fairly dark it is definetely
morning, sun rising and birds singing).
For fuck's sake Ben (she grabs his
arm and tries to haul him round).
Don't wander off. Bending rules,
yes, but you've got to stick with me for now, OK?
Ben: But - I mean, it's
morning.
Tina: Yes. This morning. Come on will you. (She has manoevered him to the door, but he
tries to turn back).
Ben: So what the hell
happened to last night. I mean-
Tina: (Pushing
him inside) That
night has yet to happen. Later on
today, as it happens. Now hurry up will
you. For once, I haven't much
time. If we're not out of here in ten
minutes I've got to do another recton to get us back.
Ben: Do a what?
Tina: What I just did. Which'd knock the roof down again, and
that's definitely not allowed.
Ben: You know, I'm about as
confused as I've ever been in my life.
Tina: I know, I know. Like I said, footnotes will be added. For now, just trust me.
Ben: You say that a lot
don't you?
Tina: (They
are back at the now. Tina grins at him and takes his arm). Hold tight again, same as before. Only, unless I time this right, we arrive to
find the roof collapsing on our heads. (She
presses the button again; suddenly the place is full of dust, small stones
falling, blocks of masonry on the floor etc.
Shouting is coming from the main building. They stagger forward again but Tina pulls them behind the corner
in time. Gary, looking lost, is
babbling "They're back, they're back." Tina puts her finger to his lips.) Wait. Five seconds, then
we're gone. Stay. (She
darts out. Police are milling about,
advancing on the . Two shine their flashlights on Tina as she
darts to the tomb, pulls the chip out of the crack. Calls of "Stay where you are" etc. from the
police. Tina runs back to the corner,
pauses and yells) Hey Boswell! Talk
your way out of this, dickweed! ( She dives back and grabs Ben, grinning
hugely). Yes! Result!
Come on, we're out of here. (Inserting chip bit). This time, we do it properly.
Ben: Er.... Out to where?
Tina: (Pulling
the switch out.) Somewhere wierd.
Ben: Oh good. Variety.
One of the entrance
rooms in the Centre; a plain room, no window, the decor completely white. One corner is curtoned off, there is a
stragne grill-type thing, with a few buttons on it, on one wall and a small
(white) couch. Marspillan is sat on the
couch in an elegant slouch; black, stately and a touch effeminate, dressed in
odd garbs. The curtains are pulled open
and Tina emerges, supporting Ben who is staring vacantly at the new
surroundings.
Tina: Hey Marspillan.
marspillan: (Giving a lazy wave.) Well?
Were we successful?
Tina: Bit of a balls
up. That cow-
marspillan:Cally! Introductions first, please.
Tina: (Hereafter
known as Cally): What? Oh, right.
Ben, Marspillan, Marspillan, Ben.
Marspillan, get your arse off the soft and help me get Ben's onto
it. (Marspillan
hauls himself up and takes Ben's other arm; he slumps between them). He's in a bit of shock.
marspillan: Well, obviously.
Cally:Not
just coming here. Fucking Boswell
opened fire on him. (They lever Ben onto
the sofa, in a semi-prone position).
Nearly killed him as well. I'm
really gonna fry Boswell for that. This
was when Ben was a Full Civilian and everything.
(For
most of the following, Cally is stalking the room, Marspillan leaning against
the wall, arms folded. Ben, who has
closed his eyes, lies still.).
marspillan:You
intend reporting Boswell to the Praetors then?
Cally:I
intend nailing his arse to the wall, that's what I intend.
marspillan:And
what was Boswell doing in 1996 anyway?
Cally:What
do you think? Waiting for me, under
orders from the cow. They - and here's
what I want to know, Marspillan. How
the hell did Jess get my whereabouts from the Bank. I try to find where she's cropping up next, those dickheads send
me packing. She seems to get permission
for my whole life story-
marspillan:The
Bank is for general access-
Cally:Except
where it affects a game. You know
that. If it affects a game, access is
denied. So how come no-one denied Jess?
marspillan:Well,
you know Jess. She's got a lot of
friends. A lot more than you,
Cally. You know-
Cally:Look,
bugger you Marspillan. I know why Jess
has got every toss-pot and boot-licker cheering her on. Because she speaks in a posh voice, wheedles
round the Praetors and gives blow jobs on the hour, every hour. The three F's, fawning, falsehoods and
fucking. I know this. But I've got you, Marspillan. So how come you didn't stop one of Jess'
allies checking me out at the Bank?
marspillan:Because,
Cally dear, I don't work at the Bank do I? Which rather limits my actions in that field. Do you want me to sit by the door with a
cudgel to weed out the unworthies.
Cally:If
you have to, yes. When you're my link
at the Centre, act like my link at
the Centre. Jess really put one over me
today, you know? I don't want a repeat.
marspillan:I
do have-
Cally:Yeah,
I know. Anyhow, when is the bitch
now? Or is she back here? 'Cause if she is-
marspillan:No,
she's not at the Centre. (He takes out a
mobile computer-type thing, types in a few things and examines the monitor). I thought you would ask and... no, still
nothing. Must have knocked herself off
frequency.
Cally:What? Well, haven't you checked at the Bank? She's-
marspillan:Cally. I only got back from the fourteenth century
two hours ago. Since then, I've had
reports to file, times to log and checks to make. I''ve had a full-scale grilling from Laurel and Hardy as to your current antics. And I've also had to get cleaned up, and you
know what a task it is getting cleaned up after you've been in the forteenth
century. I have had a long day,
Cally. So why don't you do the grown-up
thing, stop berating me, forget about Jess and see to your friend here. (They
both stare down at Ben, and start talking in lower voices). Why you thought to bring him here-
Cally:Hey,
you can't get me for that. With Bowsell
trying to blow his head off what should I-
marspillan:Alright. But he's your responsibility now,
Cally. You know what that means?
Cally:I
know, I know. I wasn't just going to
dump him, Marspillan. (She walks over to
Ben, crouches down in front of him, then adds over her shoulder) But the
game still goes ahead as scheduled, OK? (Marspillan
sighs but says nothing; Cally turns to Ben, says gently) Ben? Hey, Ben? (Ben opens his eyes, blank-faced) Hey, Ben? You doing OK?
Ben: (Slowly
and deliberately, though a touch slurred) No. I really don't think I am.
Cally:Stick
with it, Ben. Things get better from
now from now. This is always the worst
bit.
Ben: No. The worst bit, I think, was when that man
was trying to kill me. That was, in
fact, the worst bit of my whole life.
In fact, if I am reincarnated, and come back each time as a beetle,
then... (He loses the thread).
Cally:Well,
you're safe now. We're back at the
Centre.
Ben: Ah.
Cally:Now,
thing is Ben, you'll be stopping here tonight.
I'll get you your own room and everything. Be like a night in a hotel.
A luxery hotel. That OK for you?
Ben: Do you have any
colours except white?
Cally:Yeah,
course we've got other colours. Any one
you want. This is just a reception
room. I'll get you out of here in a
bit. (She takes his hands). Trust me, Ben. Things are going to be OK.
Just bear this bit out.
Ben: Erm... The Centre of
what, exactly?
Cally:(Hesitating)
Never mind, for now. Just the Centre.
marspillan:Cally,
I think Ben would like an explanation.
Cally:That
what you'd like, Ben? A big, long, complicated explanation right now about
everything? Or would you prefer a drink
to settle your nerves?
Ben: I think I'd prefer a
drink.
Cally:Right
then. See, Marspillan? He wants a drink. and - you smoke don't you?
I'll get you some cigarettes.
Now, I'll be gone about half an hour.
Ben, are you going to be OK while I'm gone?
Ben: Do - Do I have to do
anything?
Cally:Don't
do a thing, Ben. Just stay here, close
your eyes and relax, OK?
Ben: OK. (Cally smiles at him and stands up).
Er... Tina?
Cally:Yes?
Ben: I have had a number
of... trying experiences tonight.
Before these trying experiences, I had five pints of lager. So I appear to have wet my pants.
Corridor
outside; Cally and Marspillan just leaving the room, the door sliding
automatically shut behind them.
Corridor is long and thin, gently curving round, lit by unseen sources
giving a white radiance. Walls and floor
are a dull zinc grey but the walls painted with colours that gradually change
hue, mainly blues and purples. The
floor is divided into two, half normal, the other half a moving walkway, a
slender steel handrail partitioning them.
Travelling with the walkway, on the other side, is a regular series of
harness-type structures, and from time to time these are occupied, with people
carried in a backward reclining position.
When they do get onto the walkway though, Cally and Marspillan just walk
down it. On the outside of the room,
the grill structure is surrounded by various display screens and panels, one of
which comes to life when Marspillan fixes his hand monitor to it and begins
pressing buttons; both the panel and monitor begin chattering and whirring for
a short time. This happens during the
below exchange. Similar rooms stretch
up and down the corridor, though only on the floor side. As said, there are a few people about,
mainly on the walkway, also coming out of the rooms (some in historical garb)
but fairly deserted on the whole).
marspillan:Well. You sure found a prize specimen there,
Cally, I must say.
Cally:Oh
screw you Marspillan. He's only just
got here. I remember when you brought
me here first I screamed the place down.
marspillan:You
were eight years old.
Cally:Ha. And I've heard what you were like your first
night. They had to tie you to a bed
until you calmed down. You were a lot
older than eight. Ben gets better,
trust me.
marspillan:Well,
I hope so. We are judged as much by who
we introduce to the Centre as by our own actions. That's why my name is constantly mud. (He disengages his monitor
and hands it to Cally). Here. Yours to watch over. (On
the monitor we can see Ben sat on the sofa with his head in his hands).
Cally:(Reluctantly) I don't suppose...
marspillan:No. I can't wipe this particular bottom for
you. (He pushes the top of a post just in front of a gap in the hand rail and
the walkway slows to near-stationary.
Marspillan sardonically waves Cally onto it and follows her; as he
releases the post the speed of the walkway increases again. Its speed should randomly dip and increase
as they travel along, with others presumably getting on and off at other points). Though I would like a word with you, while I
can.
Cally:(Rolling her eyes, unseen by Marspillan)
About what?
marspillan:Cally,
here at the Centre we have developed our technology to an unbelievable
level. We have designed vast machinery
and immensely powerful machinery, all the product of the world's finest
minds. We have the works here,
Cally. And it is all geared to one
thing, the prize mankind has so longed dreamt of.
Cally:Marspillan,
I do know this. I-
marspillan:Time
travel, Cally. Time travel. We have discovered it, developed it, almost
perfected it. We have the ability to
send someone back hundreds, thousands of years, with pinpoint accuracy to any
one given moment of the Earth's history.
Cally:(Chanting) Mar-spill-an! I know, I do it every da-aay...
marspillan:An
awesome power, Cally, and with it comes an awesome risk. So many safeguards must be introduced, so
many laws must be followed to avoid loops and paradoxes. And so the technology for all this had to be
developed. Each member of the Centre
has to be logged, constantly and permanently, their precise location in the
time-scale to be perpetually monitored.
It's the only way they can avoid walking over the precipice into
paradox. And so, behold the Bank-
Cally:You
anywhere near the point yet?
marspillan:Behold
the Bank, our staggering data resource centre.
The bank, which provides the precise time and spatial location of each
member of the Centre. The Bank, which
not only contains the present and past locations but because of the , their future locations as
well. Our movements are no longer
random, Cally. Or if they are, their
randomness can be seen, plotted, projected and predicted. We can, if we wish, unveil a person's entire
life story. So please, Cally, tell me
something. How in the midst of this
marvellous scientific fortune telling, you managed to get back here five
minutes late? (The
last word said venomously, over Cally's shoulder. A pause).
Cally:The
Bank doesn't pick up everything, you know.
marspillan:Oh
I know, Cally. It only picks up legal
journeys. That's why I'm asking you.
(By
this time they have emerged into a larger area, though still fairly
deserted. A number of walkways come out
of other corridors, heading in both directions.)
Cally:I
had to do a recton. (Marspillan leans against the rail cursing
and Cally rounds on him). Look,
just don't fucking start. I said I had to didn't I? And it was only a part-recton anyway. OK?
Twenty four hours back, that's all.
Look. (She shows him her watch). All recorded down here. Three minutes, twenty six sodding
seconds. All officially recorded. And tomorrow I'll go to your precious bank
and log the details. Then everything'll
be nice and neat again. That make you
happy?
marspillan:It
isn't just the Bank you silly-
Cally:Well,
what then? No-one saw us. It was the middle of the sodding night,
Marspillan. You can't just - I mean, we
don't have rules for the sake of it.
The rules are there to protect us.
So if you break them and protect yourself, where's the harm. And like I said, I had to do a recton. You thought to ask why? Because Jess stole my Batesan chip. So that didn't leave me much choice did
it? You know what a normal time jump
without a Batesan chip is called? It's
called a recton isn't it? So if you
want to wag your finger at someone, try Jess for a change. I mean, it's legal to steal my sodding
equipment is it? She wasn't trying to
win the game there. She was trying to get
rid of me for good.
marspillan:Two
overgrown schoolgirls.
Cally:What?
marspillan:You
and Jess. Schoolgirls. You dare each other to break the rules. You egg each other one, bit by bit, to go
that step further. And when you get
caught, what do you both say? 'She started it'.
The
walkways have almost reached a gap in the far wall. A recorded voice from a speaker says "You are now entering
the Plaza. Please hold tightly to the rails" several times. When they come into the plaza another voice
rattles off various gumf about Exit A for residential quarters, Exit B for
retail facilities etc. The Plaza is a
100 foot high dome, a tangle of walkways, landings, corridor mouths, building
etc. Cally's walkway drops down,
suspended apparently in space, its floor turning into steps as it does. They descend in silence. When the walkway briefly levels off they
jump off and float gently down through the air onto a platform which juts out
and leads into an opening in the dome's walls.
Inside is a wide corridor, the walls lined with display screens and
consoles. The first real signs of life
are here, people punching things into the consoles, loading up bags which drop
from openings in the wall. Several
people greet Cally in the manner of strangers greeting celebrities. When Cally and Marspillan finally talk to
one another they're obviously just holding their feelings in check)
marspillan:You'd
better use an audio. I'm not sure of
the codes for historical goods.
Cally:Right. (She
punches a few numbers into a console).
You think I can claim for this?
marspillan:(Shrugging)
You can try.
Cally:Sure
hope so 'cause I'm down to my last-
(The
monitor comes into life)
computer: Welcome
to-
Cally:(Curtly) Order.
computer:(After a few beeps)
A thousand thank-you's for your bountiful custom, (Calli gives a frustrated "Shit) oh daughter of the moon, more
beautiful than fair Helen. Speak your
desire and it shall be truly granted, even unto half my kingdom. For our time on earth is brief...
Cally:(While it rambles away). Can't someone do something about that
sodding programmer? This is getting out
of hand. (When the computer has shut up).
Right you. 75 c.l. bottle of
late twentieth century whisky, no preferred brand. Two packets of late twentieth century cigarettes, preferred brand
Silk Cuts. One pocket lighter. One ash tray. No more fucking poetry.
computer:(After a pause, in a rather nastier tone)
Order has not processed. Please re-log
order.
Cally:(Squeals in frustration, then implores)
Marspillan! (Marspillan rolls his eyes, then rolls off a lot of "amber liquid,
so sweet yet so sour" stuff. Cally
wanders up the corridor to a much larger monitor which has a number of people
noisily clustered round it. The screen
is divided into four panels; displaying a rubbish-filled alley at night, a
noisy sixteenth-century docks, a futuristic city from the air and 1940's
Piccadilly Circus. Names are displayed
in small letters at the bottom of each panel.
In the last, an air raid siren suddenly sounds and the picture goes
jerky, a little like someone running with a camcorder. The watchers grow excited; one fiddles with
a panel and the blitz scene enlarges to the whole screen. Marspillan calls out)
marspillan:Cally! A room, remember.
Cally:Oh
right, yeah. (She walks further up the corridor, checking the hand monitor as she
goes; Ben isn't doing much. Cally
approaches a line of more conventional computers though their screens are
extremely complicated. Leans on the
back of the chair of one operator. Seb,
a portly middle-aged man, friendly but shy, currently engrossed in tracking
through three-dimensional floor plans).
Cally:Hey,
Seb. Still ticking over?
Seb: (Half-facing
her).
Cally. Good to see you
again. I didn't know you were back.
Cally:Hope
others share that view. You think you
can rustle me up an initiates room?
Seb: I think -
Initiates? Have-
Cally:Ssh. Keep it to yourself for now. Things are a bit delicate. So have you got one?
Seb: (Typing
rapidly) That shouldn't be a - ah, there you go. (A
list appears on one half of the screen, the other a floor plan with a number of
rooms highlighted). Take your
pick. (Cally taps the screen on the top room; the computer starts processing;
on screen appears a shot of an empty room with a check-box hanging on one side). Do you want the full-
Cally:Yeah,
give him the works. Let's see, clothes,
sink, toilet.. We're getting an ashtray.
And a bible. Get a bible.
Seb: A bible.
Cally:A
bible. Good News. You got - yeah, hatch service in the
morning, that'd be best.
Seb: There's an external
window. Do you want it blanked out?
Cally:What's
the weather doing? (More typing; the room
disappears, replaced by a nightmarish landscape, a desolate crater-filled rock
desert, hail stones drumming down from a deep red sky). Yeeuch.
Think we'll spare him that
don't you? (The landscape vanishes and the room returns.)
Seb: Right then. (He
taps a key and a few seconds later a small purple-lined rectangle bent in a
right angle pops out). Room 36,
Matthaus Corridor. Directions are on
the back.
Cally:Cheers,
Seb.
Seb: How's the game going,
by the way? It's hard to follow
sometimes. You and Jess are both off
the Theatre half the time.
Cally:(Grinning)
That's because it ain't no game anymore.
(
Ben lying in bed in a
featureless little room. Slowly wakes
up, looks around. Then gets up and very
carefully walks up and down. He prods
each wall, as if unsure it is really there.
Goes to what might be a door and stares it. Behind him, something looking like an extremely complicated
microphone suddenly protrudes from a wall.
MICROPHONE
Good morning sir, I hope you
slept well, how may I serve you?
BEN
(
Jumps, looks around, finally
spots the microphone and approaches it warily) Er… er, hello whoever you
are.
Er, could I maybe have a coffee..?
(
A panel flips open, there is
a gargling sound and a ledge shoots out with a mug on it. Ben takes the mug and the panel snaps shut.)
MICROPHONE
Enjoy, sir.
Do you require anything else, sir?
BEN
Um… some clothes maybe?
Mine were in a bit of what you could call an
accident but if you've any spare-
(
Another panel has already
opened. Ben takes the clothes he was
wearing the night before, sniffs the crotch of his trousers suspiciously and
looks surprised.)
BEN
That was quick.
Er, where am I?
MICROPHONE
You are in Room 223A, South
Section, Amber Wing.
(
The microphone vanishes.)
(A little later. Ben is dressed, smoking and sipping from his
mug. The door snaps open and Calli
walks in).
BEN
(
Jumping up; warily) Oh,
hello
CALLI
Morning.
Sleep well?
BEN
The sleep was fine.
Waking up was a bit unpleasant.
I thought I had the most fantastic dream
ever.
Now I find it might be true so
I'm less imaginative than I thought.
CALLI
Dreams are over-rated.
Any no-mark can have good dreams.
I don't dream at all and I'm thrilling.
Got everything you need?
BEN
Well, I asked for coffee and
your… your whatever seems to have given me hot Ribena
CALLI
Yeah, the dispensors in this
place are fucked.
It won't be Ribena
but don't ask what it really is.
BEN
(
Putting mug down)
Plus, it's a small thing, but during my first
fag of the day I like to stare out of the window with vague disapproval.
Don't ask why.
It's just part of who I am.
But I notice there's no windows here.
CALLI
No, they don't have them on this
block.
You can get pissed off with the
corridor if you want.
BEN
(
Glancing out) No, that
just frightens me
CALLI
(
Taking his arm) Come
on.
If you're ready, we need to be
somewhere
BEN
Where are we
now?
CALLI
(Glancing at a panel by the
door as they exit into a featureless corridor) Room 223A it says here.
South Section-
BEN
Amber Wing.
Yes, I got that much.
I meant, where is that exactly?
CALLI
(
Surprised) Oh,
right.
I thought you got told last
night.
Central Compund of the Eurasian
Quadrant.
We just call it The Centre
usually.
Get onto this walkway thing
here.
(
They travel a little way on
it, then:) If I was Marspillan, I'd say you didn't ask the right question
just then.
BEN
Naughty me.
What is the right question?
CALLI
I'm not Marspillan.
he'll give you all the right questions and
the right answers.
Not in that order.
(
They enter the central
chamber. Ben freezes when they step off
the walkway but Calli leads him towards an escalator)
BEN
Oh dear God.
What…
CALLI
Yeah, we took you round the back
way last night.
This place can be a bit
much at first.
BEN
It
can… A
bit… What
the hell… (
Looks down, notices they are on a walkway hanging over space,
cringes)
Oh sweet Jesus
CALLI
(
Reaching the foot of an
escalator, which slopes hundreds of feet up to an opening in the far wall)
This one's ours.
And watch the
blasphemy.
People are getting touchy
about that sort of shit these days.
(
Tries
to push him onto the escalator)
BEN
I'm not going on
that
thing
CALLI
Not scared of heights, are you?
BEN
I am if I'm
standing on
them
CALLI
Just think of it as… what are
those things you have.
A mall.
It's like a big shopping mall.
BEN
(
Reluctantly stepping onto the
escalator) Thanks.
Those places
really
terrify me.
(
Cut to large room, walls
covered with screens. A few seats with
headgear attached, apparently a combination of goggles and headphones. Marspillan sitting on a plain chair with his
feet up. Rises as Calli and Ben enter,
Ben stumbling in hastily and breathing hard. The central chamber just visible
outside the door.)
marspillan
Late again, Calli.
calli
Yeah yeah.
He was sleeping in.
I didn't want to disturb him,
marspillan
I mention it because I got an
edict from the Council this morning-
calli
Yeah, I got one too-
marspillan
And it orders you to attend an
assessment session concerning your activities last night-
calli
I know, I know.
We got the same one.
marspillan
Well, mine also requested that I
ensure you actually show up for once.
calli
OK, I'm there. (
Glances at
Ben.)
We should do his induction
thing.
Wait till I get back?
marspillan
I'll take care of it.
They tend to go rather better when you're
not here anyway.
ben
Excuse me?
I'm about to have a mild heart attack.
But afterwards, you can do what you want
with me.
calli
(
Smiling, walking back to him)
Calm down.
Marspillan's just gonna tell
you some stuff.
ben
And that will relax me?
calli
Probably not.
He normally puts people to sleep but this
might be a bit weird.
Afterwards he'll
ask you if you want to stay on here.
It's
up to you.
But I'd like it if you say
yes.
(
Gives him a quick kiss on the
cheek)
marspillan
Calli-
calli
OK, I'm gone. (
Trots to the
far door; over her shoulder to Ben:) I'm just off to get my arse kicked through my skull.
Have fun.
(
Uneasy pause after she
leaves.)
ben
Er… Marspillan, right?
Didn't we meet last night?
(
Marspillan nods.) Sorry.
Only my memories kind of start as a blur and
then get fuzzier and fuzzier… So what happens now?
marspillan
Now we can send you straight home
if you like.
But you look like a man
who wishes for some answers and I can give you some of them.
So you can ask me some questions and then
watch a short presention. (
Indicates a headset.) Afterwards you can ask
me some more.
And then you can choose
to leave or stay a while longer.
ben
OK… Now you've put me on the
spot… OK, Calli said you'd scoff if I asked you this, but where the hell are
we?
marspillan
Whereabouts on the planet?
ben
Well, I suppose I basically meant
that, yes.
marspillan
(
Flicks a switch. Map of the
world appears one one screen, rapidly focusing on one spot). North eastern
Scotland, close to the Moray Firth.
ben
(
Peering at the screen)
But there's nothing… Where you're pointing, there isn't anything… (
Stiffens.)
Oh, right.
I get it.
This is one of
those places, isn't
it?
marspillan
I'm sorry?
ben
It's not on the map so we're
either underground or, well, just somewhere not accesible to mapmakers.
This is an army base isn't it?
marspillan
There are troops here, yes, but
it is not precisely-
ben
Some part of the government
thought?
Ye Gods, they can't make the
trains run on time but they can afford
this set up.
marspillan
Again, while there is a
government here, which is hopefully reprimanding Calli right now, it doesn't
exist in the sense that you mean.
ben
You're separate from the
government and… so what is it, some kind of cult?
Some weird Highland liberation army funded by Sean Connery?
Have you got a Blofeld in a kilt somewhere?
marspillan
I think, Ben, you should watch
the first part of the presentation.
Then you will know the concepts to use when asking your next
questions.
Simply sit here and attach
the transmission headwear and it will begin. (
Looks at Ben's expression and
sighs.) And no, this will not be an exercise in sensory manipulation or
hypnotism.
It will be a film,
essentially.
ben
And I'm supposed to just trust
you on that?
marspillan
Yes, I'm afraid so.
Because if you don't you will go back home
not knowing what is happening here.
One
day you might change your mind and want to know but believe me, Ben, there will
not be a door for you to knock on.
ben
(
Pause). It's not a film
with Sean Connery in, is it?
marspillan
No.
ben
OK, roll it.
(
Bit later, Ben sat alone
wearing the head gear. Takes it off when Marspillan re-enters the room)
marspillan
(
Kindly) Well?
Is everything making sense so far?
ben
No.
I don't get it.
marspillan
It
is a great deal to
absorb at once.
But surely you must
have guessed some of it.
From your
experiences last night with Calli-
ben
I haven't guessed a damn… .What's
actually going
on here?
I can't
follow… I just didn't get the metaphor.
marspillan
Ah, that.
'Time as a rubber band,' right?
Yes, I'm not very happy with that one.
It's pretty flaccid and not even very
accurate, when you look hard at it.
But
whenever I complain they just say they know the pedagogic arts better and there
matters rest.
ben
No, not… Well, that one was
pretty lame.
But I meant the overall
metaphor.
You know.
This is the 25
th century and you
can travel in time.
What was that one
supposed to mean?
marspillan
Ah.
(
Sits down next to him.) I see your problem.
The thing is, that one wasn't a metaphor.
ben
What… Look, don't bugger
about.
I missed it, OK, so just tell me
what it means.
marspillan
It means what it says.
That was rather the point of the orientation
lesson.
This is the 25
th
century and we travel in time.
ben
No you don't.
marspillan
Yes we do.
Now, I'm not going to enact a pantomine
routine with you.
Just go through the
rest of the lesson-
(
Jess enters the room, a tall,
elegant and rather vicious looking girl. Marspillan stands up, immediately
tense.)
JESS
Hey, braniac.
marspillan
(
Nodding courteously)
Jess.
I wasn't aware you were back.
JESS
You never know where I am, do
you?
Where's my little bottle-blond
arch-nemesis?
marspillan
With the Council.
JESS
Getting slapped around, I should
think.
Don't think I don't know what
sort of a stunt she pulled back in the 20
th.
marspillan
Ah yes, illigeal stunts.
You may find the Council booking you into
their busy schedule some time soon.
Have
you retrieved Boswell, by the way?
JESS
Thought I'd leave him stewing
there till I take off again.
Or Calli
does, 'cause I always know when she sgoes.
A few weeks in tabloid and mobile phone hell might batter some sens into
him.
marspillan
I do like to see loyalty to one's
staff.
JESS
Got to show discipline.
You'd have been battered into shape by now
if you wee one of mine. (
Nodding at Ben) Who's this then?
marspillan
(
Cautiously). A new
arrival, possibly.
He thinks that we're
a metaphor.
JESS
Yeah? (
To Ben) I've
twatted men for calling me less.
ben
I didn't mean you personally, I
meant… (
Weakly indicates the machine). The whole weird situation
outlined on that thing.
I thought that,
since it obviously can't be true…
JESS
OK. Whatever.
Then take it as a metaphore for how I'm
gonna kick Calli's arse.
ben
Really?
I've heard James Joyce meant the same thing in Ulysses.
JESS
(
Staring at him) One of
those, eh? (
Over her shoulder as she leaves) You sure do pick 'em,
Marsie.
See you around. (
Exits)
ben
I've been picked?
marspillan
No.
Not in any conceivable sense.
Maybe-
ben
Jess… I've heard that name
somewhere.
And that other one you
mentioned, Boswell.
marspillan
(
Sighing) Boswell was the
man trying to obliterate Calli last night.
He works for Jess.
You probably
heard Calli screaming insults at them both.
She tends to do that, I'm afraid.
ben
Hang on.
You mean that girl who was just in here, she
– she tried to have Calli killed?
marspillan
It's not like you think.
ben
For fuck's sake, shouldn't we –
why didn't you do something?
marspillan
Watch the rest of the film.
And try to put from your mind metaphors,
similies, analogies and anything other than the literal truth.
And if any part of that truth seems implausible
remember that this is the 25
th centruy, you're from the 20
th
and think how someone from the 1600's might react to a pair of velcrose jogging
shoes.
ben
With horror, I hope.
I know I do.
marspillan
Watch the film, Ben.
(After tape thing. Marspillan sat by a fountain in a small garden.
Very pleasant but rather artificial looking and still indoors. Calli strolls up)
marspillan
Well? How did the Council
respond?
calli
(Spanking her wrists; in silly girly voice;) Ooh, that hurts! Ow,
I'm so sorry, sir!
marspillan
Is there any chance, Calli, that one day you might take them seriously?
calli
Not looking likely, is it? (Takes small computer from her pocket)
Anyway, they docked me ten points. So
I'm still ahead of Jess by… Oh, they've just finished with her.
marspillan
And?
calli
She's lost thirty. Eat my heels,
girl. (Grins, then looks around). Where's Ben?
marspillan
He was having some doubts. So I
sent him forward half an hour.
calli
(Tutting) Oh, Marspillan, Marspillan…
marspillan
It is perfectly in order, thank you. I used those legitimising and
registering procedures which seem to so baffle you.
calli
Having trouble with the whole time travel bit, was he?
marspillan
It tends to be a problem with the late era types. Give me a child unto the mid 16th
century, I always say. But a man like Ben has a mind full of inaccurate science
fact and appalling sicence fiction and is so, so sure what isn't
possiible. A littlbe barbarian like you
was no problem.
calli
You mean after I'd stopped bitch-slappign you around the Centre for
kidnapping me?
marspillan
Yes. After I'd taught you the
importance of rules and restraints and civility… Oh no, those lessons seem to
have been missed out, don't they?
calli
Ha ha. So you doing a scenario
for Ben or what?
marspillan
I have changed my clothes. You
being here will help too. (Looking embarressed) And I plan on climbing
up this stepladder.
calli
Old ones are the best ones, eh?
(Some time later in a room.
Calli watching a monitor, Ben sat biting his fingernails, Marspillan
fidling with a hand-held device trying to get it to work)
ben
So you'll take me back then?
calli
Hm?
ben
If I decide to leave. You'll
transport me back to my, er, epoch or whatever?
calli
'Time.' Only nerds like
Marspillan say 'epoch.' Yeah,
sure. We don't expect you to walk.
ben
And it'll be to the exact same time, will it?
marspillan
'Exactly' is another word we try not to use in relation to
transportation.
calli
It'll be close enough. A week
out, tops.
ben
A week? So I… I'll have skipped
forward a week? All that time in my
own, er, you know, I'll just be gone?
calli
That'll be OK won't it?
ben
Well, my parents might get a bit-
calli
(Staring at him) Ben, you're 21 years old and you're still worried
what your parents thing? (Looking back at monitor) Donna's dyed her
hair, you know. Sort of orange.
marspillan
I thought, Calli, you were studying that footage to get tips?
calli
I am. It looks pretty cool. I might go for the same. (To Be)
Anyway, it might not be forward. You could go a week back.
ben
Hey?
calli
You could arrive a week earlier than you left.
ben
Hang on… How the hell can that work?
calli
(After a pause) You've got what we do here, haven't you?
ben
Yeah, but surely… That won't work, will it? All right, a few centuries back or something but not just a week.
calli
You've already gone a night back?
Remember? That bit in the church
I'm not gonna talk about again in front of Marspillan.
ben
Yeah, but that was different. I
knew I wouldn't be there that night.
calli
What?
ben
There was no chance of me… you know, meeting myself.
calli
Huh? Is this some of that 20th
century New Age crap?
ben
No, I meant actually meeting myself.
Look, say I get back a week early, I go home – what happens then?
calli
Between you and your parents, I suppose.
I'm guessing they'll put you back in your diaper.
ben
I meant, won't I actually be there?
calli
Well, yeah. You went home.
ben
Already there, is what I'm getting at.
There at the same time I was at the Minster.
(Pause)
calli
No.
ben
But how can I not be?
calli
How can you be? You're at this
Minster thing.
ben
Look… I think I've got some of the principles. Time's a straight line, right, it's just you've found a way to
re-enter it at past points, not just stay at the very end. You can't influence what happened at the
times you travel back to because it's already happened, including you arriving
there. That's right, isn't it? But if it's a line… I've got to be on it all
the way up to the moment I met you at the Minster. So if I go to an earlier stretch of the line… Surely I'll meet
myself.
calli
No.
ben
But I can't avoid it. Can I?
calli
You can't meet yourself. There's
only one of you.
ben
OK, in one sense, but there's also another of me in the past.
calli
Another one of you?
ben
And I still have to be there on that week-long stretch leading up to
meeting you at the Minster. Because
otherwise I wouldn't have arrived there.
And then I wouldn't be here now, talking to you.
calli
So?
ben
So if I go back to the places I was then… I'll meet myself.
calli
No you won't.
ben
But how can I not?
calli
How many of you are there? Eh?
ben
But-
marspillan
(Slamming the object down) For heaven's sake… Ben, there's a
mechanism built into our whole process.
It's very complicated and I can't give you even the full terms, but it
means you'll avoid the paradox you just described. Bascially you'll be put inside a sort of bubble while the risk
lasts. You'll be both as you are now
and as you were then. And the bubble
will vanish after the night you came here.
That will still have happened but you'll be back on the normal time line
and be able to continue a normal life.
And Calli, you have the poorest, poorest grasp of the theoreticals of
anyone I've ever met.
calli
(Sulkily) What's that you're pissing about with?
marspillan
A transmittor.
calli
What's up with it.
marspillan
It is broken.
(Calli takes it from him, twiddles a few dials. It suddenly comes to life. She hands it back to Marspillan with a blank
expression.)
marspillan
All right. I wasn't calling you a
dumb blond.
calli
Yeah you were. But try calling me
that next week. I'm definitely going
for that orange thing.
(In another room, not sure when)
ben
So that's it then? You lot have
finally invented time travel and this is what you use it for? A game?
calli
Which I'm winning.
marspillan
By five very, very small points.
The contest is not the sole use, Ben.
We do carry out a certain amount of scientific research. But it seems more and more of our attention
and resources are being devoted to-
ben
Some kind of bloody reality TV show.
Watching women dress up in silly costumes and zip back in time to slap
each other around. You're sitting in
isolated bubbles on a dead planet and this is your number one concern? You don't see anything wrong with this
picture?
marspillan
On a dead planet as you put it, slightly inaccurately incidentally, our
leisure options are rather limited.
calli
Yeah, that hiking group never got off the ground, did it?
ben
Well, how about usuing these wonderful machines to, I don't know, bring
it to life again? Try to stop it dying
in the first place?
marspillan
Yes. I see. For one, it might be beyond our means to
return to the point when the Earth's magnetic field weakened and somehow bump
it up. We don't own that many magnets.
ben
It wasn't just the magnetic field according to the fielm. There was all the climate change caused by
massive pollution. You could fix that,
couldn't you? Just-
marspillan
(Sighing; to Calli:) Ah, the new arrivals. Always full of their brilliant ideas about
how to save the world. Except you,
Calli. I don't recall you having any
dieas about anything.
calli
I just thought you were a bunch of pervs and head-jobs. Still waiting to be proved wrong about that.
marspillan
(To Ben) You think you are the first man to have this notion? When time travel was perfected, that was all
people could talk about. Use it to save
the world. So they travelled back to
the source, to the 20th century, the 21st, the 22nd. And they tried warning the world about the
ultimate consequences of their actions.
ben
So what happened?
marspillan
Nothing, of course. They joined
the environmental protest groups of the various eras. They protested. And the
world muttered about protecting jobs and the economy and ignored them.
calli
'Cept for the ones who got specific.
marspillan
Yes, those who tried explaining about isolated life support systems and
time travel from a dying world. They,
of course, were institutionalised.
ben
But I'm not just talking about protesting. You could, I don't know, share clean technology or overthrow
fucking governments or-
marspillan
Or act like gods. Yes, we
probably would if we could. But we
can't. Ben, I've been trying to drum
the practicalities of time travel into you and still… To take you back to the
early days of the discovery again, when this really did seem possible. You have noticed that some in the Centre are
Jewish?
ben
I've never been able to tell a Jewish person on sight.
marspillan
The man we passed in the corridor earlier wearing a skull cap…
ben
Oh, yeah, OK.
marspillan
So do you not think that the first idea these Jewish people had when time
travel was perfected, and it wasn't a bad one, was to travel back and put a
bullit in Adolf Hitler's brain?
(Pause)
ben
So what happened? Were they
stopped or-
marspillan
Evidentally, yes. But if you mean
were they prevented by the leaders of Centre, the answer is no. There was a great deal of controversy, I've
heard, and many were worried that the whole course of history might be changed. But then they looked out of the window and
decided this history could use all the changing it could get.
ben
So Hitler was actually-
marspillan
No, Ben. Read your history books
and they will still tell you that he died in his bunker in 1945. The would-be assasins missed. Or they were arrested. And the more subtle found that Adolf as a
toddler was only sick after they fed him the poison or that his pregnant mother
did not miscarry after they struck her in the stomach. And if you ask why they did not simply keep
trying I will tell you of a man who did, in a mission to save President John F
Kennedy. He travelled back, got a job
as a bodyguard in the Dallas motorcade and could only watch as the President's
brains splattered over his suit. So he
went back again, tried to find Lee Harvey Oswald and burst into the wrong apartment
just as the trigger was pulled. Back he
went once more, hid on a grassy knoll to try and intercept the bullet and still
moved too late. There were a few blurry
photographs taken of him which excited contemporary conspiracy theorists. It was about this time that we started to
get the message.
ben
What was that?
marspillan
History cannot be changed. It's
all happened, and part of what has happened is us travelling back into history.
ben
But surely-
marspillan
No, Ben, there really is no 'but surely.' Hitler killed the Jews.
Oswald killed Kennedy. The
oceans rose. We are only creatures of the
here and now when we are here, now.
When we go backwards, whatever we bring with us, we are only actors of
that particular era. Time is a straight
line-
calli
I'd say it's in a loop
myself. 'Cause you two are having the
exact same argument you had a few days ago.
Calli
