The Dead Drop

Or
Behemoth

by
Alexander Sherman

217 Crown St Apt B7

Brooklyn, NY 11225
917.270.5725
REYNOLDS stands in silhouette before a window looking out on
the graceful curve of a tower lit with lines like a circuit
board. His face is revealed, wet with tears.

He presses his finger to a screen and the window fades to

black.

He lights a candle, picks up a bag and walks down a long,

dark hall.

LANCASTER (V.O.)
You met her in Paris, am I right?
Of course I am.
Hellish, that was. We knew it was
coming but they wouldn’t listen;
they weren’t prepared. Things like
that don’t happen overnight.
It was building up for years- and
then some damn fool policeman put a
match to it. It only takes one.

Washes of color and dissonant tones, an alien communication

in the cloud of a distant, primordial memory.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
That’s the thing, the curious
thing. Riots and flames and
savagery and, in the middle of it,
the two of you found each other.
You fell into each others’ arms and
together you watched the city fall.
And you knew, didn’t you, you knew,
that it was just the beginning of
something truly remarkable.
I must admit, that is touching.

Reynolds is asleep in a hospital bed in a very dark room. He

faces a wall of peeling plaster. To his left is a dimly lit
curtain. To his right is a wall marked with two patches of
soot like black eyes, and a sleek machine from which emerge a
tangle of colored tubes that disappear into the vein of his
right arm, his neck, his temple, and under the folds of the
perfectly clean white blanket that covers his body.

The right half of his face, his shoulder and his arm are
covered by bandages.

He rouses slowly and finds that his arms and legs are bound
securely to the sturdy frame of the bed. A strap stretches
across his chest and he cannot sit up.
 2.

He breathes deep panic breaths, strains desperately against

his bonds, screams out for help, and collapses from
exhaustion.

The lights cut out and the room is dark except for the glow
of the machine, blinking in a complex pattern. His breathing
is rapid and pained. The two are perfectly in sync.

Black.

A frightening sound like a generator coming to life. The

lights come on for a moment and he gasps, woken from an upset
sleep.

A roar like thunder, like an explosion, or like that of a

monstrous creature shakes the room, causes the lights to
flicker and shakes dust from the ceiling.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
I was there, myself. In Paris.

Loudly pulling up a vaguely institutional chair to his left

is the imposing and distressingly charming LANCASTER, a well
kept man in a sleek black suit. Sophisticated and American,
with one look you know that he is in complete control.

He speaks and Reynolds stares fearfully, afraid to move or to

make any sound.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
No romance for me, unfortunately.
Strictly business. Very tedious
work, insurrections, you have no
idea. There was one woman, though,
who did catch my eye. A writer.
Old money. Ancient. A, how shall
I put it, a sower of dissent with
an excess of useless information
who was seeking asylum and it was
our turn to turn her away.
Beautiful. Very beautiful.
Unfortunately just not worth the
effort.

Silence.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
She begged me. Pleaded. Perhaps I
strung her along but I couldn’t
bring myself to say no. Not
easily, I should say, of course I
did eventually. Always do.
(MORE)
 3.
LANCASTER (CONT'D)
I last saw her, in person I mean,
being dragged away screaming and I
was certain that she wouldn’t make
it, that I had, more or less,
killed her myself. She did get out
eventually, actually, some
lovestruck Czech or something, and
I- we kept track of her for a while
before she, well, settled down.
Dead now I suspect.

He mumbles in thought and his eyes take on a faint glow.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
Yes. Dead. Just last month. In
her sleep. Well, good for her.

Lancaster stares at Reynolds, through him, lost in thought.

Waiting.

REYNOLDS
Who the fuck are you?

Lancaster returns to his body and shakes his head with a

sardonic smile.

LANCASTER
Oh, there you are.

REYNOLDS
Where am I? What the fuck is this?
What the fuck do you want from me?

LANCASTER
You haven’t done this before, have
you?

REYNOLDS
You can’t do this. You can’t-

LANCASTER
May not. I may not. Obviously I
can and I have.

REYNOLDS
But, god’s sake, why? Why me for
fuck’s sake why am I being held
here?

He strains against his bonds and shakes with abject rage, but
it is of no use.
 4.

LANCASTER
Let’s take these one at a time,
then. Where are you? You are
dead, officially, anyway, your
remains are rotting in a coroner’s
office in Salzburg. Where are we
is a better question. What does it
look like? This is a war zone. We
are on the front lines: we are in
the trenches, on the beach at
Normandy, on Mars with the damn
Libertarians. It really doesn’t
matter.
What is this? Ideally, this is a
conversation but so far it’s been
pretty one-sided. Now, what do I
want from you?

Lancaster leans back in his chair.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
That’s a difficult question.
Sorry, I’m being condescending. I
don’t mean to be, though that may
be hard to believe, it’s just that
this is a bit of an odd situation
for everyone involved. How about
this: what do you think I-we want
from you?

Reynolds throws his head back, closes his, goes very tense.
He is lost, alone, powerless, scared but persevering.

REYNOLDS
What do you know?

LANCASTER
What don’t we know?

REYNOLDS
Plenty.

LANCASTER
Fine. Mysteries of the universe
aside, then, you should for your
own sake assume that we know
everything that there is to know
about you and be honest and
truthful with us, with me, in order
to make this process as easy as
possible.
 5.

REYNOLDS
What process? I have nothing to
say.

LANCASTER
Don’t be modest. What’s the last
thing you remember? Before you
wound up here of course.

REYNOLDS
I...don’t remember.

LANCASTER
You were...on the train.

Reynolds shoots a hateful glare. Still tense, still

desperate, he relaxes slightly as he begins to speak again.

REYNOLDS
I was going to a conference in
Berlin. I was supposed to speak.
I must have missed it. What day is
it? How long have I been here?

LANCASTER
You don’t want to know. What was
the conference?

REYNOLDS
You don’t know?

LANCASTER
Tell me.

REYNOLDS
Writing. It was about writing.

LANCASTER
Yes of course. I’m a great admirer
of your work.

Reynolds is taken aback.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
All media that is censored, if it’s
any good, makes its way around the
office very quickly. I understand
that was the nature of the
conference. Unofficially, I mean.

Reynolds sinks further into hopelessness. Lancaster does

indeed know everything.
 6.

REYNOLDS
Yes. Yes it was.

LANCASTER
You’re in good company, there’s a
long history of writers monitored
by their governments, I mean I’m
not with the government, but
Hemmingway’s FBI dossier was 122
pages.
Tell me about the package.

Reynolds turns away. Lancaster smiles.

REYNOLDS
The what?

LANCASTER
The package. You ought to
remember. It misfired, we think.
Likely you were supposed to get it
into Germany but it detonated
before you reached the border.

Shock.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
Shoddy thing. Held together with
tape in places, so I hear.

Reynolds looks at his bandages, swallows hard.

REYNOLDS
What do you want from me?

LANCASTER
Why did you do it?

REYNOLDS
I didn’t know what I was carrying.

LANCASTER
No?

REYNOLDS
No. I swear, I- I was contacted,
told where and when, where to take
it and I did. It’s all anonymous,
I never asked questions, I was
never in direct contact with anyone-
I don’t know anything.
 7.

LANCASTER
Would you like to?

REYNOLDS
What?

LANCASTER
Would you like to know who your
contacts are? Who dropped off the
bomb that you picked up, that wound
up bringing you here? Who the
imbecile was who taped it together
in his parents’ basement? I can
tell you everything except who
belongs to us. It probably won’t
do you any good but if you’re
curious. . .

REYNOLDS
No. I’m not.

LANCASTER
I would be. If I were in your
shoes I most certainly would. I
mean, you are an unwitting
accomplice. How did you get
involved with the. . . Lions of
Hamud, anyway?

Reynolds sighs.

REYNOLDS
Through a friend.

LANCASTER
Why?

REYNOLDS
Because- I had to do something.

LANCASTER
You must have had some idea that
you were aiding known terrorists.

Regret weighs Reynolds down. He becomes lighter as he

speaks.

REYNOLDS
I’m not stupid. And it’s not that
simple. It’s just that- You know
my history...
 8.

LANCASTER
In detail.

Anger takes its time to rise in Reynolds’ voice; at

Lancaster, at the world, at himself.

REYNOLDS
...I’ve just been silent, watching
things happen for years- and I’m so
sick of seeing the same things
happening and I felt like we were
running in circles. Illia said- I
never wanted to know what they were
doing, in fact I preferred it that
way. I just imagined that I was
smuggling vaccinations or letters-
they do organise rallies too, you
know, peaceful protests even when
it’s practically suicide. And
charities, and schools... Of
course I didn’t assume that I was
carrying... I just wanted to feel
as though I was doing something
again, it didn’t matter what. Like
something, just maybe, was
happening. Because. . .

LANCASTER
Because. . . It’s what she would
have done.

REYNOLDS
God damn it. No. So is that it?
You’ve got me locked away, tried
and convicted- did you say that I’m
officially...dead? So you can do
whatever you want with me?

LANCASTER
Yes, that’s about right.

REYNOLDS
Then... Look, I- I must have missed
something- you are making it very
clear that you do in fact know
quite a bit more about this, about
me, than I do!
(MORE)
 9.
REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
If I somehow have gleaned some
vital scrap of information that’s
escaped you and your peoples’
infinite resources then I promise:
no matter what you do: torture me,
skin me alive, kill everyone I ever
loved if there happen to be any
left, shut me away for the rest of
my miserable life. All you’ll ever
get from me is this: fuck you!

Silence.

LANCASTER
This is not about information, Mr.
Reynolds.

REYNOLDS
Then what?

Lancaster savors this moment.

LANCASTER
Do you have any idea of the
following that you have gained?

REYNOLDS
Following? Is that a joke? I was
always in the shadows. I was never
distributed thanks to you, you
managed to block me at every turn.
Do you mean you and your friends in
fucking Langley?

Lancaster, resenting the implication (or pretending to),

boosts the severity of his voice.

LANCASTER
Don’t assume that I’m with a
government, Mr. Reynolds. And no.
This is carefully guarded
information that I am about to
impart to you so please appreciate
that I am actually doing you a
favor. You wrote a curious, very
embittered essay during your
college years that- yes, you
remember- that you posted on your
blog anonymously- do they call them
blogs anymore? You know what I’m
talking about- and that I gather
you had forgotten about completely
until this moment.
(MORE)
 10.
LANCASTER (CONT'D)
Sloppier than your more recent
output and honestly a bit laughable
in parts but nonetheless a
passionate, uncompromising and to
many a very empowering statement.
This document has been propagated,
hand to hand, peer to peer, quietly
and carefully setting fires in the
hearts and minds of a great many of
the world’s most ambitious radicals
and idealists. Some of them feed
the poor, some of them blow
themselves up. One of them is at
this moment staging a coup in South
America and quoting you verbatim in
his moronic manifestos. It’s a
little baffling, really, but you
are, quite possibly, one of the
most influential writers of your
generation. And you never had any
idea.

He lets this sink in.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
So influential are you that- Look,
I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry to tell
you this, but it has come full
circle. You have hexed yourself.

REYNOLDS
Get to the point-

LANCASTER
It was a dirty bomb. Understand?
You were smuggling a biological
agent at the behest of someone many
levels above you in your quaint
little insurgent faction, any of
whom may have been shaped by you
and would have looked upon you as a
saint had they known. But,
instead, you face your ruin at
their distant hands. A strange
attractor. The zeitgeist is a very
powerful thing.

Silence.

REYNOLDS
What kind of agent?
 11.

LANCASTER
You’re going to have a rough time.
It works slowly. I think that you
can appreciate, though, how lucky
it was that you did not deliver it.
You were taking it to Berlin.
Thousands would have been infected,
hundreds killed.

Reynolds is trembling.

REYNOLDS
How- how many? How many did I-

LANCASTER
Dozens. Only dozens.

Silence.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
It can be treated, but on a greater
scale it would have been
devastating.
Silence.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
You can be cured.

REYNOLDS
If?

LANCASTER
If you talk to me. The hypothesis-
Well, you are seen as a something
of a divining rod. Revolutions can
be prevented if enough writers are
killed in time. Fortunately it’s a
little late for you and you can now
apply your talents elsewhere. You
can atone. We don’t want
information; we have enough. We
don’t want you to tell us the
truth; your lies can be more
telling. We want to understand
you. We want your spirit. We want
insight.

Silence. Lancaster stares powerfully at Reynolds’ pathetic,

shivering, cowering form. Without another word he stands and
steps away, drawing the curtain and pulling it back. His
silhouette lingers before turning and walking into the dark.
 12.

The lights shut off. The machine shoots a kaleidoscope of

colors in time with Reynolds’ shaky breathing.

Dark hallways, flickering like an aurora.

Lancaster: in silhouette, his eyes glowing.

Reynolds is whimpering. He gasps out a sob and silences

himself. He moans and writhes. He tries to sit up but he
cannot. He yanks at his bonds again and again. He screams
and sobs and fights. A new light glows on the machine. It
begins to hum. A blue fluid is pumped through a tube into
his arm. He screams and shouts more and more, fighting the
weakness that is overtaking him. He goes quiet and falls
asleep.

Lancaster: in silhouette, his eyes glowing.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
So? Did you catch all that?

He hears a voice: a distorted, slow, deliberate growl.

PRESENCE
IT HAS BEEN RECORDED AND ARCHIVED.
AN ADMIRABLE PERFORMANCE. WE ARE
SENDING YOU AWAY.

LANCASTER
What about him?

PRESENCE
HE HAS TIME. YOU WILL BE RETURNED
AND HE WILL BE HERE. LET HIM COOK.

The light in his eyes fades. Ever so slightly, he shrinks

into himself.

LANCASTER
Damn.

Black.

A churning fractal mass, like a nest of insect machines:

clicking, ratcheting machinery. The sound of it is
terrible.

The lights, blinking by Reynolds’ bed, in sync with the

fading cacophony.

Slow pan across Reynolds, feet first, writhing weakly as if

caught in a bad dream.
 13.

Covering his face, connected by a tangle of wires to the

machine by his side, is a horrible mask, an abstract mess of
metal and lights that is frightful, but not without beauty.

A distant place: slick wet surfaces, columns of rocks, a

black pit. The sound of hurricane winds, grinding machinery,
and far away screams.

A hall, dripping water.

Reynolds: asleep, unharmed.

A cockroach, marching across an ancient tile floor. The

room, silent except for the barely audible scurrying of
creatures in the walls. Another quiet sound, slowly growing
louder: the murmur of a thousand voices talking at once.

Reynolds wakes, his face darkened by days’ worth of stubble.

Sitting next to him is Lancaster.

REYNOLDS
Back already?

Puzzled, Lancaster considers a response. As he about to

speak, Reynolds interrupts him.

REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
How long have I been here? I
haven’t eaten.

LANCASTER
You don’t need to eat. We’re
taking care of you, no need to
worry.

Reynolds smiles.

REYNOLDS
You want us to be friends, don’t
you?

Lancaster’s face betrays a mix of emotions. He is on the

defensive.

LANCASTER
That would make things easier.

REYNOLDS
I don’t mean that. You want me to
talk and you’ll do whatever it
takes. In your own way you’re
trying to win me over and it’s all
a performance, I know that.
(MORE)
 14.
REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
But I mean that you have a sincere
need. Behind the artifice.

LANCASTER
What makes you say that?

REYNOLDS
I’ve been thinking.

LANCASTER
I’m sure you have.

REYNOLDS
You don’t have anyone else, do you?

Silence.

LANCASTER
Tell me about Sophie.

Reynolds smiles broadly.

REYNOLDS
You’re alone. Like me.

He takes on a mocking tone.

REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
We’re not so different, you and I.

He laughs. Lancaster broods.

LANCASTER
You are correct. People in my
position do not have the luxury of
companionship, and it is not my
nature to begin with. The woman in
Paris, I said that I strung her
along but I was a little vague. I
held on to her. For months. She
was using me and I let her because
I was using her. I could have
gotten her out and I would have if
she hadn’t hated me so much and
been too scared to show it. The
lies were so thick I couldn’t
breathe. She hated me and I, in my
weakness, could not hate her. I
deceive and I manipulate, always
have, out of necessity both
personal and professional. I am in
the cold, and that is where I
should be. Nonetheless, I envy you
her. So many.
(MORE)
 15.
LANCASTER (CONT'D)
There have been so many others, but
none like your Sophie.

Silence. He brightens, suddenly.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
Are we alike? I don’t believe so,
hardly at all. That’s why I find
this so interesting. Except, as
you say, we have no one else. You
and I are alone, here. Just us and
the insects and the ghosts.

Despite himself, Reynolds is stirred. Lancaster’s next

question sinks deep, filling him with pity and regret.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
How did you feel, when she looked
at you?

Reynolds searches for the word.

REYNOLDS
Weak.

LANCASTER
Ah.

Silence.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
And yet, she inspired you.

Lancaster waits, letting him speak. Reynolds loses himself

in the reminiscence.

REYNOLDS
I guess. Yes, she did. At first I
was a little scared of her, of her
reputation. I wanted to interview
her for an article and she kept
putting it off. Then I read that
she had been arrested for
vandalism, arson, conspiracy... I
found that very appealing at the
time. As soon as she got out she
came to me to tell her story. Told
me to meet her in Paris, that
something extraordinary was
happening there and nobody in the
world knew. She was reading
Voltaire by the light of the fires.
The best of all possible worlds.
(MORE)
 16.
REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
That’s the first thing that she
told me, that she believed that was
true. She was the most wonderful
person I had ever met. That was
only one side of her, but I loved
her anger as well. It also made me
jealous. I didn’t...feel that
passionately, but I wanted her to
think that I did. That made me
write.

Lancaster listens intently. Reynolds ponders for a moment,

and then his expression sours as he realizes that he has
succumbed.

REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
And here I am.

He turns away and Lancaster shakes his head.

LANCASTER
Do you have any idea what happened
to her?

REYNOLDS
No.

LANCASTER
Do you want to know?

REYNOLDS
No.

LANCASTER
Even if she were dead?

Reynolds goes pale.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
Not saying that she is, sorry, I’m
just...saying.

REYNOLDS
No. I wouldn’t believe you,
anyway.

LANCASTER
Why not?

REYNOLDS
Because I can’t trust anything you
say. Anything may be a deception
and anything that you show me could
have been doctored.
(MORE)
 17.
REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
Bring her here along with an army
of witness that I trust and then I
may believe you.

LANCASTER
Expecting the possibility of her
death, I’ll see what I can do.
(pause) I’m sorry, I’m supposed to
keep bringing that up. You’re
right, of course. One one level.
Professionally I will lie to you.
Consistently.

This takes visible effort for him to say.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
Personally though I’m sick of it
and I promise that I have no
ulterior motive. My superiors have
their objectives and I have mine.
Whether or not you believe me, it
is the truth.

REYNOLDS
I don’t.

LANCASTER
Well, we’ve got time. Do you have-

Lancaster points to his head.

REYNOLDS
No.

LANCASTER
Anything?

REYNOLDS
I haven’t touched a computer in
years.

LANCASTER
But you write.

REYNOLDS
By hand.

LANCASTER
Oh. Very impressive. Unfortunate,
though, it would make some things
easier. You’re sure you don’t want
to know anything about her?
 18.

REYNOLDS
Yes.

LANCASTER
She went looking for you, you know.
Tracked you down and waited outside
of your apartment for hours.
Trying to work up the courage to
knock on your door.

REYNOLDS
Please stop.

LANCASTER
But- how does that make you feel?
Knowing that all the pain you must
have felt all these years, she must
have had the same? That in that
moment you broke her when she was
so strong? You aren’t curious?

REYNOLDS
Would you be?

LANCASTER
Yes.

REYNOLDS
You’re going to tell me anyway. Is
this personal or professional?

LANCASTER
You really aren’t! You’ve made no
effort to see her, even to contact
her when contact is so easy that it
takes effort not to. A complete
severance, in fact, as you have
done. It’s that you want to hold
on to her, yes? As she was.

Silence.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
You couldn’t accept it if she had
changed. But of course memory is
such a... Mutable thing. Subtle
adjustments made in the course of a
life can ultimately create a
somewhat skewed perspective, can it
not?
(MORE)
 19.
LANCASTER (CONT'D)
You saw the events surrounding the
Müller Leak from a singular vantage
point but of course the world
remembers it in a completely
different light, and her as well.
Once there was such thing as an
enemy of the state and she would
have been one. Now they are
forgotten. They disappear, as she
did.

REYNOLDS
What are you saying?

LANCASTER
I know you don’t believe it but you
did the right thing. She went to a
dark place. A place that changes
everyone who enters. Your
memories deceive you, indeed they
must. Looking back on it now, how
could such a thing have ever been?
You become untethered from the
reality of your own life: the world
that has left you long behind,
yourself as you could not have
seen, her as you could not let
yourself see. When the world
changes so fast does it even matter
now who anyone was? I don’t know.
I think there is only the constant
state of becoming.

Silence. Again, he points to his head.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
I am tethered. As every moment
passes it is fed straight to me. I
know. But you are right, you
cannot trust me. Do you trust
yourself?

REYNOLDS
Do you?

Lancaster sighs. He stands, leans very close, and hisses.

LANCASTER
You must, Isaac. You have nothing
else.

He turns and steps away. In an instant, he vanishes into

thin air.
 20.

Reynolds gasps, looks around the room.

REYNOLDS
Hello? Hello?

He notices that he is shaking uncontrollably. He winces and

coughs. Blood drips from his eyes and nose.

The hall, and the sound of his coughing.

The black pit, screaming.

His room. He breathes deeply, staring at the wall. The

lights shut off.

Black. Silence.

A loud rumbling, the room shakes. The sound of him waking,

though it is dark. He coughs.

A lit clicks on behind the curtain. A figure is silhouetted

upon it: a thin, discomforting form.

REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
Hello? Where the fuck have you
been? How much longer are you
going to keep here? Please tell
me...

The figure does not move.

REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
Hello? Is that you? Where did you
go?

The room shakes again.

REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
What is that?

It shakes again. A monstrous roar.

REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
Please say something!

He falls silent and gapes.

Something begins to leak from the ceiling, a spreading patch

of deep black. It grows and grows, stretching down until it
almost touches him. Then it pulls back, away, slipping
effortlessly into the wall that he faces as if it were not
there. It emerges again and loops back into the wall, again
and again, coiling like a long tail.
 21.

The hum of electricity, of something terrible pounding on the

walls.

The figure slowly begins to raise its hand, reaching for the
edge of the curtain.

Reynolds sweats, trembles, clenches his teeth, stricken by

primal, abject fear.

From the ceiling comes a new phase of the creature: spiked

like a city skyline, orbited by shapes like alien glyphs,
sprouting a web of tendrils that move into the room from all
directions. Again, voices: a thousand speaking at once.

Reynolds screams.

The hand grabs the edge of the curtain and pulls it aside.
For an instant it is visible: two eyes shine, blinding like
exploding stars.

Reynolds turns away, clamping his eyes tightly shut. The

room darkens, and when he opens them again he is alone,
everything as it was before.

SOPHIE
Isaac?

She is there, hidden in shadow: a tiny, crippled shape in the

corner of the room. He groans with revulsion and turns away.

REYNOLDS
Oh god. You’re not real. You’re
not really there.

Her voice is an awful sound, so sad that it’s painful.

SOPHIE
I can’t see, Isaac. I can’t see.
Is that really you?

He looks at her, filled with sorrow.

REYNOLDS
Yes. Yes it’s me. What are you
doing here?

SOPHIE
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry they
dragged you into this. It’s my
fault. I’m sorry.
 22.

REYNOLDS
It doesn’t matter-don’t worry about
me. Where are you? What have-
what have they done to you?

SOPHIE
I can’t see anything. It’s cold.

Silence. Reynolds turns away.

SOPHIE (CONT'D)
They took pieces of me. I told
them everything but that wasn’t
what they wanted and they didn’t
stop. There’s something here.
With me.

REYNOLDS
Don’t worry. Come here, walk
toward me.

SOPHIE
I can’t.

Sophie falls back against the wall.

SOPHIE (CONT'D)
No!

Tendrils sprout from the wall, grab and pull her through.

Reynolds can only watch in horror. He closes his eyes and

clenches his fists.

Black.

The lights click on. He wakes from sleep, blinded and

blinking. He tries to sit up, can’t, lies back down. He
looks at the curtain. He waits. He looks away, at the
ceiling, at the machine. Back at the curtain. He waits.

He is asleep. The lights shut off. He coughs violently.

In the dark, trembling, he stares at the ceiling, at the

curtain, back and forth. Nothing comes.

The lights click on. The lights click off.

He screams out, rages at the straps on his arms and legs.

The lights click on. The strap around his right arm, he
notices, is becoming frayed. He pulls and pulls at it.

The lights click off.

 23.

He waits. He stares at the curtain, shaking. Murmuring.

Pained moans.

The lights click on, an engine kicks in. He screams at the

sound but still nothing comes.

Cheerful whistling, coming closer. Lancaster steps into

view.

LANCASTER
All the hours of my life crest
overhead. I just watch them go.
You ever feel that way?

He looks up and stops suddenly.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
Christ. You look like hell.

Reynolds is sickly, unshaven, his skin discolored in

blotches, his bandages spotted with dark red. He is calm.

REYNOLDS
Where did you go?

LANCASTER
What? I went back to my-

REYNOLDS
You disappeared.

LANCASTER
No I didn’t.

REYNOLDS
You vanished into thin air. You’ve
been gone for days.

LANCASTER
I’ve been gone for one day. Are
you alright?

REYNOLDS
You’re lying.

LANCASTER
No I’m not. Why would you think
that?

REYNOLDS
The lights.
 24.

LANCASTER
The lights have a mind of their
own. It’s not a twelve hour cycle;
they can change it up to disorient
you, it’s a very old trick.

REYNOLDS
No, that’s impossible. It felt-

LANCASTER
Felt like we’re doing our job?
Calm down, we’re almost done.
You’ve just got to try to take
these things in stride.

REYNOLDS
Who the fuck is we?

LANCASTER
What?

REYNOLDS
When you say we, what does that
mean? Who are you with? What was
that thing?

Lancaster goes cold.

LANCASTER
What thing?

REYNOLDS
You know. You fucking know.

LANCASTER
Did it speak to you?

REYNOLDS
What?

LANCASTER
Was it a person? Did it speak to
you?

REYNOLDS
No it wasn’t a person. There was
someone standing there but then
there was something else it came
down from the fucking ceiling and
there were voices and things in the
walls it went into the wall it was
fucking huge it never stopped. You
don’t-
 25.

LANCASTER
I believe you.

REYNOLDS
Fuck you.

Lancaster smiles. An odd expression: plotting?

Disbelieving? Frightened and vulnerable? Everything going
according to plan?

LANCASTER
You said you heard voices?

REYNOLDS
Yes.

LANCASTER
Yes, I hear voices too. Do you
think about them a lot?

REYNOLDS
Who?

LANCASTER
The people that you killed.

Reynolds falls back, the blow struck.

REYNOLDS
I didn’t-

LANCASTER
Yes, you did. You didn’t mean to,
I believe that, but you did.

Silence.

REYNOLDS
Yes. Yes of course I do.

LANCASTER
You suffered a concussion, do you
remember anything?

REYNOLDS
Just . . . Just noise, fear.
Screaming. I was asleep. Did it
explode?

LANCASTER
A small explosion. Just enough to
disperse the agent.
 26.

REYNOLDS
So everyone lived? I mean,
everyone . . .

LANCASTER
Everyone had to live with it, yes.
No one was spared the aftermath.
Speaking of which, how are you
feeling?

REYNOLDS
Terrible.

LANCASTER
So it goes.
I’ve . . . seen things too.
Nothing like what you described,
but I’m haunted in my own way. I
was once in a country doing
business and they were . . .
drowning girls in the river. Ten
or twelve years old, most of them.
Some ridiculous reason, they were
possessed or listening to hip hop
or something and their fathers were
holding them under water one by one
until they died. I asked if I
should do something, I wanted to,
but the word came down: “under no
conditions.” So I didn’t. The
mothers were screaming and they all
looked at me and came running,
saying that I had to help because I
was American. But I couldn’t.
That really left an impression on
me. I still dream about it.

REYNOLDS
This wasn’t a dream.

LANCASTER
No, I’m not saying that it was. I
dream that I’m standing in the
river, surrounded by the drowned
girls, hundreds of them, more and
more popping up around me. I hear
screaming but there’s no one on the
shore, no one but me and the
bodies. I try to move but the
girls- they start to stick to me.
(MORE)
 27.
LANCASTER (CONT'D)
They all start floating toward me
and they all grab on, with their
tiny, cold hands, they hold on to
me and start to pull me down. I go
under and I see that the river has
no bottom, that I was standing on
the backs of drowned children, a
cloud of them that goes on and on,
far away into the black. There are
lights down there, flashing, and it
illuminates some monstrous shape,
like a creature made out of all of
those deaths. I feel as though
they are taking me to it, to that
thing’s nest very deep under the
water.

REYNOLDS
This wasn’t a dream.

Lancaster raises a hand, pointing in a gesture of insistance.

LANCASTER
I’ve seen the lights. In my waking
life, when it’s dark, I see ribbons
of light like the surface of the
water, and sometimes I feel
coldness, fingers touching me, and
I feel the presence of that
terrible thing. It’s curious. I
didn’t kill them.

REYNOLDS
If I did, then so did you.

LANCASTER
It’s my job to educate. That’s
all. I don’t deal in protection.
It’s not my responsibility. They
think we’re magicians, some of
them, and they’re terrified.
They’re being left behind.

REYNOLDS
It’s not their fault.

LANCASTER
It’s not ours either. They’re
scared now? In a hundred years
there will be people who have
forgotten what death was. It will
be an antiquated concept, like
being illiterate.
 28.

REYNOLDS
Some will still be illiterate.

LANCASTER
Yes. And they will know fear like
we can not imagine. They will live
in the shadows of gods. True gods.
It’s inevitable, like you’ve said.

Pained, Reynolds forces an answer.

REYNOLDS
I never said that. I was very
young but I didn’t say that.
Inevitability is no justification.

LANCASTER
They will need no justification.

REYNOLDS
And it has a bad track record.

LANCASTER
But you don’t disagree.

REYNOLDS
It’s not a knowable thing.

LANCASTER
Yes. We are a complex system. But
we will continue to grow
exponentially, how could we not?

REYNOLDS
We have a choice.

LANCASTER
You have a choice, if you wish.
Luddites. It’s absurd. You aren’t
curious? I am terrified of the
future, but I am very curious. I’m
terrified of death, and one day
there will be a way out. I will
take it, and I suspect that I’m in
the majority.

REYNOLDS
You would live forever with
everything you’ve done?

LANCASTER
No. I will change myself. I will
rewrite history, reshape the world.
(MORE)
 29.
LANCASTER (CONT'D)
Reality is an increasingly
malleable thing, you could do the
same.

REYNOLDS
I would never-

LANCASTER
What if I told you that you didn’t
have a choice?

Reynolds groans and coughs.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
You are the prisoner of a reality
of your own design. Whether you
know it or not.

Lancaster gestures to their surroundings.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
There is nothing outside of these
walls. We are drifting alone
through empty space. But
somewhere, far away, the world you
knew is gone, replaced by a living
nightmare. You were only one of
many smuggling weapons in the last
few months. We couldn’t get all of
them, many of them made it through.
They’re burning bodies by the
hundreds in the streets. Millions
will die of the attacks, millions
more will starve.

REYNOLDS
You’re lying.

LANCASTER
You’ll see for yourself, don’t
worry. This isn’t on your head,
not like the others, but it is the
world that you live in now. I
don’t think you really know anyone
until you see them suffer. This
will be an interesting experiment
for western civilization.

Reynolds writhes in pain.

REYNOLDS
Be quiet.
 30.

LANCASTER
I warned them. If you don’t bring
the fight to them they’ll bring it
to you. They never learn.

Silence.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
Now what will you do next?

REYNOLDS
What?

LANCASTER
I told you, this is your design.
This facility acts something like
an antennae. It amplifies your
innate telepathic abilities. You
are a determinant node in the human
cultural consciousness, a stress
point in the zeitgeist. We are
adjusting the fate of society in
subtle increments according to your
vision.

REYNOLDS
Please leave me alone.

A violent growl shakes the room.

REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
What is that sound?

LANCASTER
That’s you. You are doing that.
You are driving the engine and that
is the sound of the world changing
course.

REYNOLDS
You’re insane. This is fucking
crazy!

Reynolds yanks at his bonds again. Lancaster approaches and

stands over him.

LANCASTER
But that’s why you’re here. You
were chosen to decide where we go
from here.

REYNOLDS
Stop!
 31.

LANCASTER
It’s all in your hands. You carry
the world on your shoulders.

Reynold’s arm breaks free. He grabs at Lancaster and his

hand goes straight through him, pushing through a wireframe
mesh. Lancaster, the apparition, smiles.

Reynolds pulls his arm back, sick with revulsion.

REYNOLDS
You’re not real?

LANCASTER
This is a projection, but I can
vouch for my existence.

REYNOLDS
Why?

LANCASTER
You are contagious. Under
quarantine. It’s either this or I
talk to you through a Hasmat suit.
Now!

Lancaster raises his voice. His aura darkens.

Reynolds puts his hand over his face as if suffering a

terrible headache.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
What will you do? People are
dying, Isaac. You and yours are
responsible for the deaths of
countless men, women and children
in over a dozen different cities.
Tell them!

REYNOLDS
This is absurd! What the fuck do
you want me to say?

Reynolds groans. The room trembles, and it becomes a steady,

droning rhythm. Lancaster begins to show something like
excitement.

REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
What happened?
 32.

LANCASTER
You broadcast a message. It moved
through them like a shockwave,
blinding them, deafening them,
striking them dumb. They’re
casting about like mewling newborns
and in each there will be an
epiphany like a match struck in the
dark. Something of you in snuck
into each of them and saying “be
still.”

REYNOLDS
Why are you doing this to me?

LANCASTER
There’s no one else. Now, what
happens next?

REYNOLDS
Next?

LANCASTER
They are receptive. We have to
keep going.

REYNOLDS
Why should I believe you?

LANCASTER
You shouldn’t. It’s not for me,
it’s for them now keep going.

Reynolds laughs deleriously.

REYNOLDS
What, I’m the voice in the head of
everyone in the world? You’re kind
of putting me on the spot you
bastard!

LANCASTER
But this is what you want! This is
an experiment in chaos. It’s not
your voice that’s doing this, and
your will is not required. This is
instinct. You can’t control what
is happening but you can cast the
dice.
We don’t have much time, they’ll be
at each others’ throats again
before long.
 33.

REYNOLDS
Who?

LANCASTER
Murderers. The wolves at the door,
they’re clawing at your mind,
aren’t they? You can feel them?

Lancaster leans close, reaches out.

REYNOLDS
Fuck off. For all I know you’re
just giving me a headache- the
worst fucking headache of my life
but I still think this is bullshit
and I want you to stop this now.

A flash of white light, a painful high pitched squeal.

Suddenly Reynolds contorts more severely than before.

LANCASTER
Impossible. We had it there, for a
moment, but it passed like it
always does, like that moment at a
party when every conversation
pauses in unison. Peace never
lasts, it must be maintained. It’s
unpredictable, but it has a
pattern. It’s my job to keep
entropy at bay, your job is guide
it. The universe is a prison. The
Big Bang decided the rules of the
universe, the physical laws that
allow elements to be combined,
planets to form, for life to
assemble itself. One of an
infinite number of variables just
out of sync and we would not exist,
but nonetheless: it is our nature
to break those rules. This is a
new beginning. The world is waking
up, tabula rasa, but every moment
it is spiralling further out of
control. Now you and I are
standing on the point of departure
and we are guiding the world to be.

REYNOLDS
God, they’re screaming!
 34.

LANCASTER
They’re afraid of you. Do you see,
they’re afraid of everything! You
must be invisible.

Reynolds relaxes.

REYNOLDS
I can’t do this.

LANCASTER
It’s almost over. They’re placing
their bets, drawing lines in the
sand. A coup is nothing without
soldiers. The leaders lose the
military and then they’ve got a
pack of greedy general anxious to
try their hand at their job. Those
men of violence, you have to give
them something to kill.

REYNOLDS
This is a coup?

LANCASTER
We are overthrowing human nature.
You and I, we have to bring the
fight to them or they’ll bring it
to us!

REYNOLDS
No, wait!

LANCASTER
Wait?

REYNOLDS
Something’s wrong!

Lancaster laughs.

LANCASTER
That’s a definite possibility.

Reynolds screams in unimaginable agony.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
Well if something’s wrong they you
have to do something! Tell them
that you were wrong! That this was
your fault!
(MORE)
 35.
LANCASTER (CONT'D)
Someone has to take the fall if
anything’s going to change. Tell
them to stop killing each other!

REYNOLDS
Stop it!

LANCASTER
Not me, them!

REYNOLDS
Stop!

A long, deafening tremor.

A machine: spokes radiating from a twisted, pulsing mass.

Webbing like the synapses of a brain. It howls.

The sound reverberates in the room and falls silent.

LANCASTER
Good. So quiet. So still.

Reynolds speaks meekly.

REYNOLDS
It hurts.

LANCASTER
Don’t worry. You’re done for
today.

REYNOLDS
I want to go.

LANCASTER
We’ll see.

Lancaster stands and walks away slowly.

The lights shut off.

Lancaster, in silhouette, his eyes glowing.

PRESENCE
THE RESULTS ARE BEING COLLATED. WE
NEED ONE MORE DAY.

LANCASTER
Tomorrow?

PRESENCE
YES.
 36.

LANCASTER
What happens tomorrow?

PRESENCE
IT WILL ALL BECOME CLEAR.

Reynolds collapses.

He wakes, he thinks, looks around, fiddles with the straps,

pulls wires out of his body.

A sound by the curtain. He looks. A snake slithers out from

under it onto the floor of the room.

He begins, again, to hear disembodies voices.

The snake makes its way toward him and disappears under his
bed.

In the dark, he speaks.

REYNOLDS
I know you can hear me. I know
you’re listening. All the time.
All my life you’ve been listening.
But there are no secrets here. I’m
not cornered. Not this time.

Voices, rumbling, pounding on the walls. Lights in the

hallway. Then everything stops.

PRESENCE
TIRED ONE. LONG NIGHTS IN THE
GARDEN. FINDING CAVES.

He shrinks, wincing, every word an assault on his brain.

PRESENCE (CONT'D)
STONES CUT YOUR FEET. POOR LITTLE
CHILD, WANDERING THE MIST.
FOLLOWING LIGHTS IN THE SKY. WILL
O’ THE WISP.

Recognition on Reynolds’ face.

REYNOLDS
What do you-

PRESENCE
WE REACH IN. SHAPES AND BLADES.
INTO YOU, INTO HIM. YOU ARE PURE,
HE IS TARNISHED. YOU ARE MARTYR,
HE IS ROGUE.
 37.

REYNOLDS
Rogue?

PRESENCE
HE WORKS ALONE. WE ARE A
CONSOLIDATION OF INTERESTS, MANY
SIDED. WE WILL HELP YOU. YOU MUST
HELP US.

A shape like the face of a scarab comes, very slowly, out of

the wall towards him.

REYNOLDS
What do I have to do?

PRESENCE
HE WEARS MANY MASK, MANY LAYERS OF
ARMOR. STRIP HIM BARE. HURT HIM.
SHOW US HIS FACE. WE WILL TAKE HIM
AND YOU WILL BE SET FREE.

Reynolds becomes focused. He gives in, realigns himself

towards this mission, towards vengeance. He burns.

REYNOLDS
How do I hurt him?

Silence.

PRESENCE
HIS IS AN ANCIENT KINGDOM. HE HAS
KNOWN YOU FOR MANY LIFETIMES,
STUDIED AND DISSECTED EVERY PART,
EVERY ATOM AND CELL. AND YET,
SOMETHING ELUDES HIM. A PIECE THAT
YOU HAVE, THAT IS MISSING FROM HIM.
ONLY RECENTLY HAVE YOU BEEN
COLLECTING HIS ARTIFACTS. WHAT
HAVE YOU FOUND?

Reynolds exhales slowly, parsing the curious analysis. He

puts a hand to his face, picking at the bandages.

REYNOLDS
The bones of armies, the ruins of
dystopia. He’s on a leash. It’s
wrapped around his eyes and his
mouth.

He slowly removes the bandage, peeling it off one piece at a

time.
 38.

REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
He’s a coward. He’s done a
thousand terrible things because he
was told to; he tells himself that
he never had a choice but it’s a
lie. And he knows it. He knows
the truth behind every lie and he
hates it.

PRESENCE
THE SHAME. THE SHAME.

He touches the skin of his face. It is untouched, unscarred.

Black.

Lights on. Lancaster enters.

LANCASTER
You’re looking well.

REYNOLDS
Getting better. What’s the state
of the world?

LANCASTER
Utopian.

REYNOLDS
The sick?

LANCASTER
Cured.

REYNOLDS
The dead?

LANCASTER
Gone. Swept aside.

Reynolds looks up, fire in his eyes.

REYNOLDS
I have a plan.

LANCASTER
Do you? For escape?

REYNOLDS
A vision. Of the new world.

LANCASTER
That’s the spirit.
 39.

REYNOLDS
I give it to you.

Lancaster is taken aback.

REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
I think that you know what’s best,
not me. I can make people listen
to you, right? You understand
them, you can bring everyone
together.

LANCASTER
That’s moronic. This is getting to
you. That’s not what this is
about.

REYNOLDS
Then what is it about?

Lancaster sours. He sighs, grimaces and turns away.

REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
Do you know? You do, don’t you?

LANCASTER
It’s not my place to ask. I know
what I need to. No more, no less.

Reynolds puts on the expression of a child who has learned

that Santa isn’t real.

REYNOLDS
But I can change that, I can help
you-

LANCASTER
This isn’t about me.

REYNOLDS
But you were picked, same as I was.
Maybe you’re as important here as I
am. Or if it’s not about operation
of professional importance you do
seem to have a lot invested in
this.

LANCASTER
What are you getting at?

REYNOLDS
You’ve been treating this like a
damn therapy session.
(MORE)
 40.
REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
How long have you been waiting to
say the things that have come out
in this room? You’ve helped me and
I think that I can help you. Let’s
meet each other halfway and run it
through the machine.

LANCASTER
You don’t have the power or the
authority. In fact you don’t have
any power or authority.

REYNOLDS
Do you?

LANCASTER
No. None. I do what I must.

Silence.

REYNOLDS
I understand.

LANCASTER
What?

REYNOLDS
You are a servant, and I
sympathise. It’s the same impulse
as being an artist, I believe, the
desire to be a part of something
greater than yourself.

LANCASTER
Are you alright?

REYNOLDS
Yes, I’m fine. I’ve just been
thinking about everything that’s
happened, and I’m starting to
understand what you’ve been doing.
Whoever you’re with, whatever you
represent, you’ve been guiding me,
guiding all of us. I didn’t want
to believe it, but something
incredible is happening and we
really are at the epicenter.

LANCASTER
You’re not supposed to believe
that!
 41.

REYNOLDS
This is the most important thing
I’ve ever done, I know it. I can
feel it.

LANCASTER
Of course you can. All that fate
of the world bullshit, it’s a mind
game, a fucking placebo. They’re
gathering data and they’re going to
let you loose when this is done
like a tagged bird.

REYNOLDS
I don’t want to go. I have to
stay.

LANCASTER
We can’t allow that. Your time is
up. This is it, this is the end.

REYNOLDS
No it isn’t. It can’t be. Things
are moving that can’t be stopped.
Like the worm.

LANCASTER
The worm?

REYNOLDS
It’s a feedback loop, I realize
that now. It’s just going to keep
growing. Nothing can stop it,
nothing can slow it down, it’s just
going to eat faster and faster
exponentially.

Lancaster begins to look at Reynolds with pity.

REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
It wants you. What does it want
from you?

Long silence.

LANCASTER
I can’t fathom it. I am a non
entity. All these . . .
Individuals, that exist, separate
and distinct in this fabricated
world, for all their blemishes they
are of far more worth than I. It
must be revenge.
(MORE)
 42.
LANCASTER (CONT'D)
This is the truth: I have no
desires, no ambition, if any good
has come of the events that I have
been involved with in my career
then I cannot take any
responsibility for it. I have no
reason to be, my existence is
hollow but for the misery that I’ve
wrought, and I can’t tell you how
much I fear that creature in the
water. It is vengeance incarnate.
It must be.

He goes pale.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
You’re a part of it now. You must
want revenge on me. For all that
I’ve done.

REYNOLDS
No.

Lancaster erupts.

LANCASTER
How!? How can you lie to me like
that? An eye for an eye, that’s
how it works. I have wronged you a
thousand times. Make me suffer!

REYNOLDS
No. It couldn’t happened any other
way. Opposing forces, violent
conflict. All it takes is time.
What’s bad for one is good for
another, those are arbitrary
measurements and you and I are
simple tools.

LANCASTER
Arbitrary. Meaningless. What
happens when something means so
little that it becomes nonexistent?
Nonexistence doesn’t sound so bad
to me, but I fear the anguish of
its approach, the violent death
that it will come before it.

REYNOLDS
We should strive to avoid a violent
death.
 43.

LANCASTER
And if it’s too late? What then?

REYNOLDS
People used to confess.

Lancaster becomes uneasy.

LANCASTER
I’ve been to your home. I’ve slept
in your bed. I have an insatiable
curiosity about the lives that I
can never have. I’ve seen people
killed and then found myself
compelled to discover everything
that there was to know about them.
I read their files, listened to
recordings of their most intimate
moments logged in our archives,
watched surveillance videos of the
most mundane, but it was never
enough, I would track their friends
and family and watch them for days
at a time. I dreamed of
infiltrating them, posing as an
old, forgotten friend and living
among those strange creatures, in
those hidden, alien comforts.

REYNOLDS
You wish to be me? To live my
life?

LANCASTER
You are a free being.

REYNOLDS
Am I?

LANCASTER
Yes you are, I know you are because
I am not! My life is not my own.
I have sold my soul, piece by
piece, I am owned and operated by
an outside force- it looks through
my eyes and whispers constantly in
my ear and I am powerless.

REYNOLDS
What is it? What controls you?
 44.

LANCASTER
There are those...who design
history. Not individuals, systems.
They decide when a war is to be
fought, they control the
information that makes it happen.
Iraq and Afghanistan, they were the
first, where they finally realized
that battles weren’t fought over
land, they were fought over minds.
The populace, they are a vital
resource and now people like me
very valuable. Spying is about
engineering human nature. If you
want an agent you have to get them
in a place that they don’t want to
be and then you give them a way
out. That’s what I do for these
systems, on a national scale: I
manufacture dissent and fear and
glory, I am the insurgency or the
counterinsurgency, intelligence or
counterintelligence. We’ll work
both sides and take some for
ourselves. We can cross borders.
This is a global war. It is about
belief and the populace is the
weapon that I wield. The pilot of
a chaotic machine.

He is in a daze, deep in thought.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
So too am I an armament. The arm of
an exponential force. There is so
much blood on my hands. I want to
feel it, but I can’t.

The lights flicker.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
If I could create a new world it
would be one where I could not
exist.

Reynolds appears to be enjoying himself.

REYNOLDS
Impossible. We all play a part,
and you have yours.

LANCASTER
The concierge?
 45.

REYNOLDS
We wage war because there is a war
in each of us. Recursion. Self
similarity. I could say that there
are no free beings, that we are all
parts of a larger pattern. You are
a servant, but who isn’t? No man
is an island, we are all involved
in mankind.

LANCASTER
So every man’s death diminishes me,
right?

REYNOLDS
All of us.

LANCASTER
But how much? How much does one
death affect me, or a thousand? Do
I actually care?

Silence.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
No. I don’t think I do.

Lancaster goes dark.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
Let’s try an experiment.

Lancaster puts his arms around Reynolds’ throat and begins

choking him, much to Reynolds’ surprise.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
I’m not supposed to be doing this.
They want you alive. I’ve never
killed anyone before, not directly.
This may also be the first
rebellious act of my life.

Reynolds hits him with his free arm, but he does little
damage.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
If I can kill you, then I am free.
I will have disobeyed. Do you
understand? I’m sorry. I don’t
want to do this, but that just
makes it more significant, do you
see.
 46.

It actually takes two minutes for someone to lose

consciousness from suffocation.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
If I do kill you, will you want
vengeance then? Will you haunt me?
Will I grieve? Will I even
remember you? Can they take this
memory? Will I?

Tendrils creep into the room. The lights flicker and go out.

Reynolds has stopped resisting. It takes about six minutes

for someone to die.

The silhouette is behind the curtain again, standing behind

Lancaster. He closes his eyes tightly. He is terrified.

The creature blossoms from the ceiling once more. It focuses

the spears of its many appendages on Lancaster. The
silhouette, behind him, becomes a spined monstrosity.

He is shaking. He tries to keep his hands around Reynolds’

throat, but he cannot. He removes them, and places them over
his face. It’s been about four minutes. He takes a knife
from his pocket and cuts the remaining straps that hold
Reynolds down.

PRESENCE
THIS CONCLUDES YOUR INVOLVEMENT IN
THE OPERATION.

Lancaster opens his eyes wide in shock.

LANCASTER
You?

PRESENCE
YOU WILL BE HEALED.

Lancaster looks at Reynolds as some terrible idea dawns.

The creature falls on him, taking him with it through the

floor, snaking through the room and down, on and on and on
until finally it ends and Reynolds is alone.

The machine next to him blinks and whirs. A steady, droning

hum begins to sound.

The black pit, dead silent.

Reynolds spasms back to life, coughing and grasping his

throat. He realizes that he is free.
 47.

He scans the room, and cautiously starts to move. Sitting up

carefully, he finds without surprise that his muscles have
atrophied. He lifts his legs and dangles them above the
floor. He slides off the bed and collapses.

He flings the curtain aside, somewhat fearfully, and crawls

past it toward the door.

He stands shakily against the wall makes his way into the
hall. He stumbles down the long, dilapidated alley, catching
himself frequently on the walls.

A distant place: slick wet surfaces, columns of rocks, a

black pit. The sound of hurricane winds, grinding machinery,
and far away screams.

LANCASTER
ISAAC.

Reynolds turns. He sees an orb of matter floating,

coalescing in the middle of the hall, far from him.

It appears that Lancaster’s body is being absorbed into it.

He is a head and an arm that transforms into a angular chunk
of matter and then turns back again. He speaks slowly,
deliberately, in a great deal of pain.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
DON’T LOOK BACK. WHEN YOU’RE FREE-
OUTSIDE- DON’T LOOK BACK.

Reynolds turns away in horror and, clumsily, runs.

He goes through an opening and winces in the daylight. He

runs through an overgrown forest without any signs of
habitation.

He turns. Far beyond the remains of the warehouse where he

came is an alien tower of machinery and detritus, made of
multiple weaving strands, an immense, shining solar array.
The surface of it moves like a coral reef.

A jet screams through the air above him. The tower retreats
into a cavity in the earth as the bombs hit.

He runs.

He is in the city, wrapped in tattered clothing, stumbling

through the streets.

He collapses against a door and pounds on with his fist. It

opens and he falls into the room, he is caught by the woman
who answered it, and he begins sobbing.
 48.

SOPHIE
Isaac! Jesus, it is you. What’s
happened?

She brings him inside and closes the door.

He sits wearily on the sofa of a modestly furnished, but

comfortable apartment. She is unscathed.

SOPHIE (CONT'D)
Do the clothes fit? They’re Sam’s,
but I’m sure he won’t mind.

REYNOLDS
It’s fine. Thank you.

SOPHIE
It’s been such a long time.

REYNOLDS
Twelve years.

SOPHIE
I tried to contact you. Really, I
did. I’ve been looking for you. I
thought you didn’t want me to.

REYNOLDS
That’s not it. This isn’t what I
expected.

SOPHIE
You mean me?

REYNOLDS
No. I mean . . . everything. I
expected everything to be
different.

Sophie scrutinizes him, mournfully.

SOPHIE
Were you arrested? Where did they
take you? You can tell me. There
are things we can do.

REYNOLDS
Were there . . . Attacks, recently?
Chemical attacks in any cities?

SOPHIE
No, not for a few weeks. Not that
I’ve heard.
 49.

REYNOLDS
A train? Was there a train crash?

SOPHIE
I don’t think so.

REYNOLDS
The conference was in April. April
10th. What’s the date?

SOPHIE
The 28th.

REYNOLDS
Two weeks? It was only two weeks?

SOPHIE
What did they do to you? What did
they say?

REYNOLDS
It doesn’t matter.

He looks at the floor. She looks at him, sadly.

SOPHIE
Nothing means anything anymore,
does it? It’s all hearsay. All
you know is that you can’t get
anything back once it’s gone. They
put you in a room and they take
everything away, leaving just
enough for you to survive. The
rest is locked up in a lab or a
database somewhere far away. I
think it’s kind of flattering. To
me it means you’re doing something
right. But now you’re here. It’s
good to see you again. It’s
been... twelve years? I can’t
believe it.

Silence.

SOPHIE (CONT'D)
I don’t blame you. Listen, I don’t
blame you for what happened. We
were young and stupid, we didn’t
know what we were getting into.
But we survived it. People are good
at that.

He can’t look at her.

 50.

They kick the door down and swarm into the apartment. Men in
black police armor, their faces the wasplike skulls of
gasmasks. They make a sound like a swarm of insects.

She looks at them, and back at Reynolds. He looks up at her

and sees what he has always feared: her accusing stare. She
backs away from him.

SOPHIE (CONT'D)
No! God, how could you? I should
have known. How could you give me
to them again?

REYNOLDS
No, please! I didn’t-

She tries to run, but they catch her from the other side.
She throws a book at one of and tries to land a punch.

SOPHIE
You fuckers I’ll die before you-

She takes a rifle butt to the face and falls over bloody.

REYNOLDS
No! Please don’t!

He jumps to his feet. An agent approaches him motioning to

him to sit. He grasps at the agent’s face. The mask comes
loose, revealing a black fractal mass underneath, and burning
white eyes. The agent effortless knocks him to the ground.

A boot presses his face against the floor. He watches as her

arms are bound and a black hood is drawn over her head. The
agents lift her and carry her away. He whimpers.

REYNOLDS (CONT'D)
Not her. Please, not her.

The boot presses down. The other agents encircle him.

The one above him puts its mask back on and bends low. After
some time, it speaks.

AGENT
We all have a part to play.

Reynolds doesn’t make a sound as it kicks him brutally, over

and over, as the others watch.

The windows burst inward with the rumble of explosions and a

monstrous roar.
 51.

He walks up to a table and sets down his candle and his bag.

He opens the bag and takes out pens and piles of loose paper.
He sits, wincing, thinks for a while, and slowly takes a pen
in a shaking hand.

For some time, he doesn’t move.

LANCASTER
This is important.

Pan over. Lancaster is sitting across from him. He lacks

the arrogance of before. His manner is restrained. Humbled.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
This is what it wants.

Reynolds lowers his head.

REYNOLDS
What are you?

Lancaster considers this.

LANCASTER
I’m . . . a transference. A ghost?
Maybe. I’m still alive, at least I
think I am. I think that I’m here,
that I’m me.

He remembers something.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
I never introduced myself. My name
is Malcolm. I was born in Austin.
I was an only child. My parents
were divorced when I was seven. I
remember everything. That’s as
good as we’re going to get.

REYNOLDS
Is there anything I can do?

LANCASTER
Yes. This.

He motions to the paper.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
This is what you do. This is the
part you play. The, um, the worm,
it parses data, that’s all that it
does.
(MORE)
 52.
LANCASTER (CONT'D)
Pattern recognition, that’s it. It
collects things and calculates them
and finds the rhythms, the
structure in the noise. That’s
what you do, too. It’s what we all
do, to some extent, we just consume
and consume, we fill ourselves with
all the leftover junk of our lives
and it sits in our heads forever,
collecting dust. But you’re
different. The things in your head
are never still. They move around
and strike against each other and
sometimes sparks fly. A catalyst.
An idea catches fire and it burns
out of control, growing
indefinitely, taking you over,
mind, body and soul and out of that
fury something new is born.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
It’s impossible to predict, of
course, a process of infinite
complexity, all the variables of a
person’s life, the world that they
carry inside them, suddenly set
ablaze. I don’t believe in
intuition, I believe that all these
things come from within us, but
some think that we pluck them from
the aether, that they are given by
the gods. Perhaps it can happen in
anyone, at any time, but not many
can . . . exorcise these things.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
You are one of them. You have been
granted a unique vision. Only you
have seen the world as it is, and
as it will be.

REYNOLDS
Is that what all this was about?

Lancaster glances at his hands.

LANCASTER
Two birds with one stone.
Remarkably efficient, isn’t it?

REYNOLDS
Then I won’t do it.
 53.

LANCASTER
You have to. It’s just going to
keep growing, you’re going to have
to let it out eventually. It can
wait. We can wait. We’ll take
care of you. You’re not trapped
anymore, you can do anything now.
Your wish is my command.

REYNOLDS
What about her?

Lancaster frowns.

LANCASTER
Do it for her.

Silence.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
Isaac. . .

He gestures to the paper.

LANCASTER (CONT'D)
This is a catalyst. It will
consume us all. The cosmos will
burn.

Lancaster has disappeared.

Reynolds ponders.

End.