[INT. THE MAGNUS INSTITUTE, ARCHIVES, SOMETIME 2013-2014]
[We hear clinking, as if from some bottles. Someone turns some pages, then zips something.]
GERRY KEAY
Hmm.
GERTRUDE
Find anything interesting back there?
[As she speaks, Gerry startles and knocks down whatever it was that had been clinking. It hits the floor with a clatter.]
GERRY
Yeah, sorry, I was just, um – yeah.
GERTRUDE
Curiosity is a very dangerous trait in our line of work, Gerard.
GERRY
So is ignorance.
[Gertrude laughs: Fair enough.]
GERTRUDE
Well, you’re not going to find many dark secrets in the stationery cupboard.
[One of them closes the cupboard.]
GERRY
(amused) Just the recorded confession of your evil plans, then.
[Something creaks.]
GERTRUDE
Oh, I’d be something of a fool to leave that one in the recorder.
GERRY
I’ve never really seen you use it.
GERTRUDE
Mm. It’s generally only for those statements I think might be useful to my successor. Or, the occasional interview.
GERRY
So, do I get to hear them?
GERTRUDE
Perhaps. If you live long enough. But somehow I doubt Elias would look favorably on your application.
And if I’m being quite honest –
GERRY
(overlapping) Yeah, I know, I know. And I don’t want your job.
GERTRUDE
Believe me, the perks aren’t worth the shackles.
GERRY
(heard this all before) Yeah, yeah.
[Someone turns another page.]
GERRY
So, what’s the verdict?
GERTRUDE
Hm?
GERRY
(duh) On The Travels.1
GERTRUDE
Oh – Burn it, I think. You said Mr. Hampton was dead?
[Page flip.]
GERRY
Yep – and not peacefully.
GERTRUDE
(overlapping) But you hadn’t seen its powers…?
GERRY
Not directly.
GERTRUDE
Well, given the themes of the original, I doubt it has anything that would be worth the danger.
GERRY
And when in doubt…
GERTRUDE
Well, quite.
GERRY
Can I use your wastepaper bin?
GERTRUDE
Yes, it’s just –
[She cuts off – just as there’s a creak from a desk or chair, likely Gerry beginning to get up.]
GERTRUDE
Wait. Surely you didn’t bring it here!
GERRY
Well, yeah, I, uh –
GERTRUDE
Gerard, we’ve talked about this. Bringing unvetted artefacts or books into the Archive is incredibly dangerous.
GERRY
It’s locked away!
GERTRUDE
And I’m sure the lock is very sturdy, but that doesn’t stop it being an unnecessary risk.
GERRY
(softer) Yeah. I’m sorry.
GERTRUDE
This is exactly the sort of thing that will get you killed!
GERRY
I said I was sorry!
[Briefest of pauses.]
GERTRUDE
Then we’ll say no more about it.
[She goes back to flipping through pages.]
GERTRUDE
I don’t enjoy being hard on you, but I really would rather you stayed broadly intact.
GERRY
I’m touched. You’re going soft in your old age.
GERTRUDE
(heh) Well, you are occasionally useful. Despite your foolishness.
GERRY
Flatterer.
GERTRUDE
Heh. You can probably burn it in the back courtyard, if you’re careful.
GERRY
(okay, okay) Yeah, will do.
GERTRUDE
And for goodness’ sake, make sure no one sees you. The last thing we need is a letter to Elias about book burnings.
GERRY
Look, if you have somewhere better to burn these books, then –
GERTRUDE
(overlapping, jokingly over-the-top) Of course, Gerard! I just happened not to mention the network of sinister tunnels that snake beneath the Archive where I keep all my darkest secrets.
GERRY
I mean, you joke, but there could be! It’s that kinda place.
GERTRUDE
I rather hope I would have found them by now. I like to think I’m not a complete incompetent.
GERRY
Until dementia hits.
GERTRUDE
Given my choice to confide in you, I rather suspect it already has.
[She flips more pages.]
GERTRUDE
Go burn your book!
[More flipping.]
GERRY
Gertrude.
GERTRUDE
(continuing her work) Mm?
GERRY
What happens if we fail?
[She stops.]
GERTRUDE
In… what sense?
GERRY
If we miss a ritual; you know – if one of them works.
GERTRUDE
Been losing sleep, have you?
GERRY
Yeah – something like that.
GERTRUDE
(measured) If we are lucky, then that failure will also mean our deaths.
[She exhales.]
GERRY
You don’t think they can reach us after death?
GERTRUDE
I suppose that depends on your religious beliefs.
[Her chair creaks.]
GERTRUDE
Personally, I suspect death puts us beyond their power, either we find ourselves in some… afterlife, or because we simply – cease to be.
GERRY
Yeah, I guess.
GERTRUDE
And I am certain that either scenario is preferable to lingering in a world they control.
They’re – (sigh) – already able to circumvent physics, and suspend natural laws. If one were to genuinely press through, I suspect they would rewrite them wholesale, most likely making them… utterly incomprehensible to any survivors.
They – They might still need us human enough to be afraid, but beyond that…
Let’s just surmise that (sigh) petty rules like space or time would be unlikely to factor into the proceedings. They might even stop death entirely, deny us the one last escape, keeping us alive and afraid – forever.
[Pause. Gerry exhales. Then:]
GERRY
And taxes?
GERTRUDE
(heh) Taxes, I imagine, will continue.
Beyond that, I honestly don’t know. I suppose it depends on which one comes through. The world of the Stranger would be – very different to that of the Corruption.
GERRY
Eugh. (pause) And if it does happen –
GERTRUDE
It’s my fondest ambition to make sure it does not.
GERRY
Yeah, sure, but – suppose it does.
GERTRUDE
(sigh) Very well.
GERRY
Could it be undone?
[Silence.]
[Gertrude takes a breath. Her chair creaks.]
GERTRUDE
(decision made) No. I don’t think so. Once an Entity fully manifested, I doubt it would be keen to fully relinquish its grip on realit–
[TAPE CLICKS OFF.]
[INT. SCOTLAND, A DAISY TONNER SAFEHOUSE, PRESENT DAY]
[The roaring of the post-ritual world is quieter than last time. The safehouse creaks as –]
[THE TAPE IS REWOUND.]
[TAPE CLICKS ON.]
[INT. THE MAGNUS INSTITUTE, ARCHIVES, SOMETIME 2013-2014]
GERTRUDE
No. I don’t think so. Once an –
[INT. SCOTLAND, A DAISY TONNER SAFEHOUSE, PRESENT DAY]
[TAPE IS REWOUND.]
[TAPE CLICKS ON.]
[INT. THE MAGNUS INSTITUTE, ARCHIVES, SOMETIME 2013-2014]
GERTRUDE
No. I don’t think so.
[INT. SCOTLAND, A DAISY TONNER SAFEHOUSE, PRESENT DAY]
[TAPE IS REWOUND.]
[TAPE CLICKS ON.]
[INT. THE MAGNUS INSTITUTE, ARCHIVES, SOMETIME 2013-2014]
GERTRUDE
I don’t think so.
[INT. SCOTLAND, A DAISY TONNER SAFEHOUSE, PRESENT DAY]
[TAPE CLICKS OFF.]
[The safehouse creaks for a very long time.]
[TAPE CLICKS ON.]
[INT. THE MAGNUS INSTITUTE, ARCHIVES, SOMETIME 2013-2014]
GERTRUDE
Once an Entity fully manifested, I doubt it would be keen to relinquish its grip on reality. And as for those unlucky enough to survive its rule… I don’t think they’d be in a state to do anything about it.
[Gerry exhales, a big heavy pfft of a thing. We hear some clothing sounds.]
GERRY
Well. Then I guess we’d better not let it happen.
GERTRUDE.
Well. Quite.
Now. I believe you have an evil book to burn?
GERRY
Yeah. Of course.
[His clothing rustles as he makes to get up.]
GERRY
You, uh – need anything else burning?
GERTRUDE
(a bit of a laugh to it) No, no. Not right now. I think I’m alright, thank you for the offer.
GERRY
Right.
GERTRUDE
Oh, and, Gerard –
GERRY
Hm?
[Chair creak.]
GERTRUDE
Don’t go rifling through my things in future. It could end… badly for you.
[TAPE CLICKS OFF.]
[INT. SCOTLAND, A DAISY TONNER SAFEHOUSE, PRESENT DAY]
[The tape recorder is opened, and the Gertrude/Gerry tape taken out. Another tape is put in.]
[The safehouse creaks during it all.]
[TAPE CLICKS ON.]
[INT. THE MAGNUS INSTITUTE, ARCHIVES, JOHN’S TENURE, PRE-READING OF ANGLERFISH (2015)]
[Some rummaging noises.]
SASHA
This it?
TIM
Oh, thank god. I thought I was seeing things.
SASHA
Glad I could help.
TIM
I didn’t know he was actually gonna ask me to get it for him; I just mentioned it ‘cause he was talking about recording.
SASHA
Well, I’m sure he’s waiting!
TIM
(grumble) Mm, he can wait a bit longer.
[There’s a knock-knock-knock type sound.]
SASHA
Fantastic! Good of you to volunteer to help me.
TIM
Uh – I, I didn’t actually –
SASHA
Grab a stapler.
[Tim sighs in defeat.]
TIM
Fine. (another knock) What are we doing?
[We hear some more pages rustling.]
SASHA
John’s been getting frustrated with all the loose statement sheets around. (stapler) I’m going box by box, collating and stapling them. And now, so are you.
TIM
(exaggerated sigh) If you say so.
SASHA
(mock sympathy) I do.
[You can hear the smile in her voice as she speaks.]
[A few moments pass in silence with them flipping through statements and stapling. Then there’s a sigh from Tim, and:]
TIM
So. How are you finding our new leader?
[Stapler.]
SASHA
Mm, alright, I suppose. Early days yet.
[More page flipping.]
TIM
Sure, sure.
[Stapler. Pages.]
TIM
Do you think he knows what he’s doing?
SASHA
Mm, he’ll get there. (stapler) I just wish he wouldn’t take it out on Martin in the meantime.
[As their conversation continues, so do the stapling and page sounds.]
TIM
(heh) If only there had been someone more qualified!
SASHA
Tim.
TIM
Sasha.
SASHA
(same tone) It’s Elias’s decision.
TIM
It’s some sexist bullshit, is what it is.
SASHA
I mean. Probably.
TIM
Look, it should have been you, and you just know if you had called him out, the little weasel would start talking about traditions, and – (bad Elias impersonation) – the values of our esteemed founder, Jimmy Magma.
[Sasha starts laughing.]
TIM
Jonie… Magnum?
SASHA
Closer.
TIM
Jack Magnet?
SASHA
(laughing) That’s the one.
TIM
Ah, I’m serious, though. You should say something.
SASHA
Mm, Tim – I’ve been in academia for what, ten years now?
TIM
Mm.
SASHA
I know how this goes! I didn’t get the job. If I kick up a stink, I’ll just get blackballed.
TIM
(resigned) Ah, yeah. (brief pause, mischievous) What if we kill him?
SASHA
(ha) What, Elias?
TIM
No. Big Boss Sims. Cut the brakes on his office chair; no one would ever know.
[Sasha starts laughing again.]
TIM
Swap in a poisoned tea bag, pin it on Martin – the perfect crime.
SASHA
(still laughing) And how do you know that you won’t be the one that gets it? That boy makes a lot of tea.
TIM
No, it’s okay; I spent the last few years building up an immunity to iocaine powder.
[Sasha lets out an exaggerated groan at the reference. Tim hehs.]
[A brief moment of silence, then:]
TIM
So, what are you gonna do?
SASHA
I don’t know, really. Might just get another job.
TIM
What, seriously, just jump ship?
SASHA
(eh) Yeah, I guess so. I mean, there’s not much out there at the moment, but I’ve got a few alerts set up.
TIM
(rueful) I can’t believe you’d just abandon our intense will-they, won’t-they storyline like that.
SASHA
Eeerm, I’m pretty sure we established it’s very much won’t they.
TIM
No, no, no, no, see – we had the ill-advised hookup, the awkward aftermath, and the gradually rebuilt friendship, but – that’s all season two stuff. We’ve got like five more seasons before we get the heartwarming epilogue that makes it canon.
SASHA
I know it’s hard to hear, mate, but you’re not the love interest. (beat) I think you might be the character they drop after the pilot!
TIM
(you wound me) Uh, wow. You are vicious today.
SASHA
Sorry, Tim! I can’t hear you over all this stapling.
[They staple in silence for a bit. Sasha sighs.]
SASHA
I guess it’s just – I don’t have anything keeping me here. You’ve got your brother –
TIM
(quieter) Yeah.
SASHA
Sorry. And Martin can’t go anywhere that’ll look too hard at his CV.
TIM
Wait. How do you know about that?
SASHA
It’s all on the system. Our digital security is shocking, by the way. Besides, it’s not even a good lie.
TIM
Okay, but seriously, you cannot let Martin know. He’ll think I told you, and I swore to keep schtum.
SASHA
Hey, don’t worry. I mean – I kinda just ended up here. And I like it – l,liked it. But if I’m bashing my head against the glass ceiling, it’s time to go.
TIM
Well. I’ll miss you.
SASHA
(fond) Yeah. You will.
TIM
Oh, for god’s sake. (bad impression of presumably everyone else at the Institute) Oh, Tim’s so hard to talk to, seriously, he won’t stop making jokes and references, not like Sasha. (normal) They’ve got no idea.
SASHA
(ha!) And they never will.
TIM
Seriously, though. Everyone thinks you’re just this reliable, down-to-earth nerd –
SASHA
And what makes you think they’re wrong?
TIM
So what, actually I’m the one who doesn’t get to see the real you?
SASHA
No such thing.
TIM
As what?
SASHA
A – A real you. I don’t think so, at least. It’s all just masks.
TIM
(amused) Alright, Stanislavski.
SASHA
You know what I mean.
TIM
You really believe that?
SASHA
Kind of! I mean, who knows why we do what we do?
TIM
I do.
SASHA
No. All you know is what your brain does to justify what you do. It’s no more reason than the face you put on for John. The only real you is the actions you take.
TIM
Hey, I’ll have you know I have a rich inner life.
SASHA
How nice for you. But hurry up with your outer one; you’re falling behind, and I’m not saving you any staples.
TIM
(laughing) Yeah, yeah. I still can’t believe Gertrude was allowed to let this place get into such a state!
SASHA
Mm. I just wanna know why.
TIM
What d’you mean why? You saw her, she’s like a hundred years old and more cardigan than woman. She just started to lose it. Sad, but it happens.
SASHA
You never talked to her, did you?
TIM
Well, I mean, I must have at some point.
SASHA
(heh) You’d remember.
TIM
Why? What was she like?
SASHA
Stone. Cold. Bitch.
TIM
Sasha!
SASHA
And sharper than you! No way this is accidental.
TIM
(pfft) Oh, yeah, this is all a big geriatric conspiracy.
[Silence.]
TIM
Wait, seriously?
SASHA
Mhm.
TIM
What possible reason could she have for being criminally incompetent in a manky old archive?
SASHA
No idea. And honestly, it kind of worries me.
TIM
Well, tell you what. If you get eaten alive by improperly filed statements, me and Martin will avenge you.
SASHA
(tch) Well, aren’t you sweet.
TIM
I mean it! We’ll burn this place to the ground, it’ll be all like (mock yelling) SASHA! SAASHAAAAA!
SASHA
And what about John?
TIM
(John impression) Well, given the incoherence of this statement, I find it hard to believe it ever occurred.
[Sasha laughs.]
TIM
In fact, based on the evidence, I find it highly unlikely that Sasha ever even existed at all.
SASHA
No. You took it too far! I’m unforgettable!
[Tim laughs.]
TIM
Alright. He fires you because of all the drugs and the wild orgies on Archive property.
SASHA
(still laughing) Yeah, that’s fair. Now, get back to work.
TIM
Yes, ma’am! See? Told you you’d make a good boss.
[TAPE CLICKS OFF.]
[INT. SCOTLAND, A DAISY TONNER SAFEHOUSE, PRESENT DAY]
[The background roars.]
[The Archivist’s breaths come shaky.]
[The safehouse creaks.]
[The Archivist exhales; the safehouse creaks again; a brown static begins to rise from the background.]
ARCHIVIST
(quiet) Wha–
[The static continues to rise in volume.]
ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT?)
There is a place, deep in the heart of fear, where you trap yourself and claim that it is safety.
[The static dies slightly to a comfortable level.]
It was once a cabin and professes still to be such, but as with all in this new world that promises respite, it is a trap.
[The safe house creaks.]
The land outside is warped and twisted by the touch of those things that feed on your suffering, and behind those rough, wooden planks it seems they cannot reach you.
The screams may linger on the distant breeze, and your Eye may wander beyond the curtains from time to time, but you and the one you love are, it seems, safe.
If you had need to eat, no doubt there would be food; if you had need to sleep, no doubt the beds would be welcoming.
But you have need of neither, and so you sit in your meager comfort and belief of security with nothing to do, nothing to distract your mind from the agonies that lie just beyond your window.
And those diversions you do find will offer no relief –
[The safehouse creaks.]
– but simply numb the mind into mournful nostalgia for a time when the world you inhabited seemed to make sense.
[The safehouse creaks. The outside howls.]
Something moves outside, struggling to crawl upon a hundred reaching, grasping hands. It shudders, and grips the earth, pulling itself along as nails rip free and skin scrapes loose. It is afraid of what it has become and where it might be going.
[The safehouse creaks.]
Close your eyes.
[The static subtly acquires another, whiter layer, higher and hissing.]
Ignore the sounds. You, at least, are safe.
[The safehouse creaks.]
There, within the thing that pretends to be a cabin, is the one you love. You hold each other –
[Creak.]
– whisper words of reassurance, but the place knows this comfort to be a lie, and laces upon it instead the awful fear of losing what you have.
[The safehouse is now creaking continuously over his words.]
Of it being stripped away by the chaos that waits for you beyond the walls.
Hold each other, it croons. Be happy. But know always that this happiness is a lie, built on the squirming bones of those whose suffering you have caused.
It will not let you feel the warmth and joy that this love may claim to gift. (lower) It is only a moldy treasure to be clung to. Something to fear the loss of as you hold it so tight that it withers and warps.
It is a rotten sanctuary of lonely companionship.
Outside it is raining. Heavy drops fall, ice-cold and laced with salt. Tears of voyeuristic delight from the eyes that see and drink in all.
It sinks, into the dry, cracked ground, and from the mud faces struggle to push themselves free and breathe. They cannot reach the surface, as the slick soil flows down their throats.
Look closer at the rough planks that make this cabin, and see that they are warmer, softer and more yielding than the hard timber they present. Are the dimensions of this place quite what they were when you stayed here before the change?
Or are the walls thicker, the doors heavier when they close? Were the curtains always stained that dull maroon? Or has the dust of the horrific world they keep at bay dyed them so.
The one you love is always near, so close that refuge sometimes feels a prison. And yet your voice does not echo when you call to them. And they find they sometimes cannot hear it.
[The static begins to intensify again.]
Stay, the cabin says.
[A clap of thunder!]
Stay within my false defenses, cling so close to what you desperately wish to save, and live in shaking fear of the things beyond that may take it from you. Throw another log on the fire and curl up close. There are always more logs for the fire here.
This is your home, and here you can be safe, as you putrefy, body and soul.
This place wishes to be our tomb. But the Eye does not wish that.
[Rumbling. The static intensifies yet again.]
No, the Eye wishes instead that it be my chrysalis.
It is time that I emerge.
ARCHIVIST
Ah-ah!
[Something falls to the floor and/or knocks against a table. Possibly the Archivist. The static recedes slightly. Martin opens a door and we hear him come in. The soft fire that’s been crackling for a while is a little more obvious now, though it’s still in the background.]
MARTIN
John? Is it – I thought I heard – are you – are you okay?
ARCHIVIST
I,ye– yes, I (sigh) I think so.
MARTIN
What happened? The tapes, were y–
ARCHIVIST
I, I was listening, and, i-it- it was the one with – Tim and, and Sasha, uh, where they’re –
MARTIN
Yeah, y-yeah. (soft) Yeah. (shaky breath) Look, John, I – I know it hurts, but you’ve just got to –
ARCHIVIST
(overlapping) No, no – O,Oka– (stops, starts over) I, I was listening, and I, I was filled with this… hatred. This anger; I, I wanted to leave (heh) and hunt down Elias, uh, and –
MARTIN
(overlapping) Uh – w,wow, okay.
ARCHIVIST
But when I thought it, th-there was – there was something else.
[The safehouse creaks.]
ARCHIVIST
Th-This place, it – it didn’t want me – it didn’t want us- to go.
MARTIN
What do you mean?
ARCHIVIST
This cabin.
[It creaks.]
ARCHIVIST
It’s not right.
[It creaks some more.]
ARCHIVIST
And when I thought that, I-I felt – (inhale) It, it all poured out of me, down into the tape. I, I, I – and it –
[Martin sighs.]
ARCHIVIST
– felt good. I-It felt right.
MARTIN
Okay. (pause) So you’re recording again?
ARCHIVIST
I – I might need to. If we’re going to make it.
[Creeeak.]
MARTIN
(genuinely surprised) Back to the Archives?
ARCHIVIST
Seems the best place to start.
MARTIN
Oh – (surprised exhale) Y,yeah, alright!
[The safehouse keeps creaking in the background.]
ARCHIVIST
Martin, it’s going to be a hard journey. One in which w–
MARTIN
(fast, excited) Yeah, yeah, yeah, so – I’ve actually had a couple of bags packed for a while now.
ARCHIVIST
(overlapping) Oh!
[Martin starts getting out said bags as he speaks.]
MARTIN
(overlapping) Um, I found some rope in the attic,
ARCHIVIST
(overlapping) Okay –
MARTIN
(overlapping) and I packed that with the maps.
ARCHIVIST
(audible smile) Uh, Martin –
[We hear Martin zipping/unzipping things over this conversation.]
MARTIN
No, no, no; I – I know what you’re going to say, (put-upon Spooky John impression) What good are maps when the very Earth has… eh, blah blah blah.
ARCHIVIST
W,w,well yes.
MARTIN
(on a roll) But I, I packed them anyway, because you never. Know.
ARCHIVIST
(fond) Martin.
MARTIN
I – I actually – (heh) I actually found a stash of tea under the kitchen sink – I –
[Fond sigh from the Archivist.]
MARTIN
I realize we don’t need to eat, or – whatever, but, you know, that doesn’t mean that we won’t –
ARCHIVIST
(overlapping, extremely fond) Yes – Yes, yes, it – alright. Alright.
[Sounds of movement.]
MARTIN
We’ve got this.
[One of them sorts through all the stuff Martin’s got ready.]
ARCHIVIST
(audible smile) Apparently so.
[More rummaging sounds.]
MARTIN
D’you think it’ll do anything? Confronting Elias?
[The rummaging continues.]
ARCHIVIST
I – (sigh) Maybe?
MARTIN
No, I’m serious – Do we –
[One last sound of movement, and then it stops.]
MARTIN
Is there a chance that we can undo this?
[The fire crackles.]
ARCHIVIST
(large inhale, then exhale) Gertrude didn’t think so.
[The safehouse creaks.]
MARTIN
Right.
ARCHIVIST
But she’s dead. (inhale) Let’s find out for ourselves.
[He hoists up something, or many things; we hear the contents slide around a bit.]
MARTIN
You’re – taking the recorder?
ARCHIVIST
Uh, just in case I need to – vent. Again, it – (inhale) it helps.
MARTIN
(heavy inhale/exhale) Okay.
[He picks up something of his own – his bag.]
MARTIN
You said this place – the, the cabin was – it – it’s feeding on us, right?
ARCHIVIST
Yes.
MARTIN
So, should we destroy it? Before we go?
[The cabin creaks very loudly.]
ARCHIVIST
I honestly don’t know if we can.
[He sighs.]
MARTIN
Mm.
ARCHIVIST
Besides, there’s – far worse out there. Better to try and avoid it, I think.
MARTIN
We’re not even gonna try? Look, we’ve got your lighter; maybe if we just –
ARCHIVIST
(overlapping) We can’t fight the world, Martin.
[A little breath of a laugh from him.]
MARTIN
(hmph) Says you.
[The Archivist exhales.]
ARCHIVIST
Let’s go.
[We hear them grab their stuff. The world howls on outside.]
[TAPE CLICKS OFF.]
-
Likely referring to The Travels of Marco Polo. ↩