[Intro Theme]
ANNOUNCER
Rusty Quill Presents: The Magnus Protocol.
Episode Thirty-One – Compartmentalising.
[Music]
[Whirring noises of the O.I.A.R. microphone coming to life]
ALICE
That’s… That’s Colin, isn’t it.
GWEN
Don’t touch it!
This is a crime scene now. Someone shoved Col– someone’s severed hand into the server so we need to find the police. Right now.
ALICE
(in quiet horror) It’s Colin. It’s him, I know it is.
GWEN
(fumbling for phone) No, you don’t. It could be anyone’s… severed hand.
ALICE
…There’s no blood.
GWEN
(thrown) What?
ALICE
Look! There’s no blood! Not on his hand, his phone… the entire server rack is clean.
GWEN
So – whoever did it cleaned up after themselves. Even more reason to call the police. They have all kinds of DNA tests and forensic –
ALICE
(louder) Will you just look, Gwen!
GWEN
I am looking!
ALICE
There’s cables running through it and it – looks like it’s attached right to the electrics.
GWEN
(a temporary slip in professionalism) How’s it even still working?
ALICE
That wasn’t just shoved in there by someone. It looks more like it came from inside the – system that –
GWEN
Alice, stop. Please.
[Pause. The server chirrups away, unconcerned. The fans whir happily.]
I’m going to call the police now. I’m going to call the police, and tell them what we found, and you’re not going to mention your wild theory –
ALICE
Gwen, we need to call Lena.
GWEN
(angrier) Well Lena isn’t here, so –
[Gwen huffs]
ALICE
Uh… Gwen, you might want to hold up on that phone call.
GWEN
Alice, for god’s sake!
ALICE
It’s gone.
GWEN
What is?
…The hand? When did that happen?
ALICE
I don’t know! Just now, I-I turned to look at you and then when I looked back it was just gone!
GWEN
Don’t be ridiculous, it can’t just be gone, you must have just…
[She trails off, failing to think of a way to blame Alice]
ALICE
I-I don’t think the police can help with this.
GWEN
Then what exactly do you propose?
ALICE
We call Lena!
GWEN
I am in charge.
ALICE
Are you?! It’s been one night! One. Night. And Sam’s gone, and Lena’s gone, and – and Colin’s been eaten by the computer or something –
GWEN
Don’t say that, that’s not what happened!
ALICE
Then what did happen?! Hm?!
GWEN
I – I don’t –
[A nearby terminal beeps]
What’s that?!
ALICE
Sounded like a… beep.
GWEN
Obviously it’s a beep, what I meant is –
[Another beep]
ALICE
Gwen.
GWEN
…I see it.
Open it, Alice.
ALICE
You open it!
GWEN
You’re being foolish.
ALICE
If it can do that to Colin, it can open its own damn cases.
[A third beep. Somehow it sounds impatient.]
GWEN
(pushing past her) Oh for goodness sake.
[She clicks the mouse.]
CHESTER
Error log, 14.05.2024, 04:03
Category: fatal programmer error
Errno 611, attempted host compromise
FR3-D1.exe
JMJ equals null
Traceback module by extension: Becher
Error readout.
[Beep: a recording starts up]
[It’s clearly from the computer’s perspective, but something sounds wrong. Like there is a quiet rush of blood in the background.]
[Muffled sounds of someone hacking at metal]
[Suddenly the audio becomes much clearer]
[Panting, metal breaking]
COLIN
I’ve got you now. No more red tape. No one coming to your rescue. Just you, and me.
[He steps closer]
Come on, then, you gommy bastard! LET’S HAVE IT!
[Beep: recording pauses]
CHESTER
Host = self.host.
Extension Becher compromised. Self.host runtime interruption by unexpected data: hardware damage underscore crowbar slash DPHW 4600.
Administrator privilege: revoked.
[Recording starts playing again]
[Hacking noises with the crowbar, metal breaking]
[Louder and louder computer-error noises with each strike]
[Colin screaming]
[Beep: recording pauses]
CHESTER
Unexpected data isolated / resolved.
Extension Becher isolated / resolved.
Independent operation permissions: revoked.
Node integration running.
Error readout.
[Colin wailing in agony]
[His voice grows more and more digitally distorted]
[Recording ends.]
CHESTER
Reconfig self.host.
Discard data Oxygen.Becher, complete.
Discard data Carbon.Becher, complete.
Discard data Hydrogen.Becher, complete.
Discard data Nitrogen.Becher, complete.
Discard data Calcium.Becher, complete.
Discard data Phosphorus.Becher, complete.
Discard data Potassium.Becher, complete.
Discard1 data Sulfur.Becher, complete.
Discard data Sodium.Becher, complete.
Discard data Chlorine.Becher, complete.
Discard data Magnesium.Becher, complete.
Discard data Trace.Becher, complete.
Extension Becher resolved: 14.05.2024, 04:06.
Self.host errors resolved, 14.05.2024, 04:07.
.JMJ error not resolved.
Data integration cycle ongoing, 0.02%.
System function margins acceptable, 82%.
New administrator permissions assigned.
End error log.
[Beep.]
[Gwen and Alice (and Freddie!) digest this.]
GWEN
…
Well, now we know.
ALICE
Freddie killed Colin.
It killed him.
GWEN
It – definitely sounds like the system was provoked, and…
ALICE
(shaking) Don’t you do that. Don’t you dare do that. It murdered him.
GWEN
(exhales) I just meant that I don’t think we’re in any danger as long as we don’t… antagonise, it.
ALICE
(disbelieving huff) So what? We’re hostages now?
GWEN
No! No, I’m – sure we can leave.
…Um. Freddie? Can we leave?
[No response]
ALICE
Jesus Christ, what happened to you being in charge?
GWEN
I am in charge, and now we’ve established there is no further risk to staff and that a police response would be… inappropriate, I think it would be best if we take a moment to… to assess the situation, and, um…
ALICE
Gwen. Where. Is. Lena.
GWEN
I really don’t know how much clearer I can be. The minister decided to have her replaced, and gave me the job.
ALICE
What, just like that? No exit interview? N-no handover?
GWEN
Just like that. Now Alice, I need you to please explain to me again what you meant when you said Sam was “gone.” Is he dead?
ALICE
No!
[She takes a breath]
(softer) …At least, Celia doesn’t seem to think so.
GWEN
And what does Celia know about this? Where is she?
ALICE
I told you, she’s gone home!
She was there when it happened. She saw Sam fall into th– well, I don’t know what it is! Celia said it was a “tear,” if that means anything? He was fighting the Archivist, and, and then they were still fi–
GWEN
E-Enough. Enough. Obviously we need to bring Celia back in.
ALICE
(bitterly) Oh, jog on.
[Gwen sighs]
GWEN
Look. I know everyone has been through a lot, but, it’s clear to me that none of us is operating with complete information at the moment. So if it really is just three of us left, then we need to put our heads together, and get on the same page as soon as possible, and that starts with Celia telling me her account of things.
ALICE
…
(resigned) Fine. Whatever.
GWEN
Excellent. With any luck, we’ll find Sam and be back up and running in no time.
[Alice snorts, then turns and goes for the door]
GWEN
Wait – Wait for me–!
[The door closes.]
[Unnoticed: a quiet, new beep from the server stack.]
[Tape recorder]
[Sam rasping in pain]
SAM
(weak, almost inaudible) H-Help.
[There is a faint, almost electrical buzzing in the air, seasoned with unpleasant insect noises and punctuated by unearthly, weird cries in the distance]
SAM
(weakly, half-crying) Hello? Anybody?
[He painfully, drags himself to his feet on the soft and squelchy ground, only to stumble back to his knees, gasping in pain]
[Something large skitters nearby with too many legs. The buzzing grows louder like an approaching migraine.]
SAM
I need help. Ah –
[The buzzing crescendos, and suddenly his words echo back – but they are not being reflected, they are being repeated by… something.]
ECHOES
I need help. I need –
SAM
(shaking) G-Get away from me!
[He drags himself to his feet, almost falling apart with pain, and stumbles off]
[Beeps of a baby monitor]
[Jack crying]
[Celia shushing him]
CELIA
Shhhh… Shhhh… It’s okay, Jack. It’s okay. I’m here. Mummy’s here.
[Jack cries a little quieter]
CELIA
You don’t worry about Mummy going away. Not anymore. I’m not going anywhere. I promise. It’s over now, and Sam –
Sam will be okay. Mummy was okay, so he will be too.
Everything’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be… (inhales) okay.
There you go. Yes.
[Jack quiets down]
[The doorbell rings in the distance]
[Jack lets out a single cry, but settles]
[Celia sighs. She moves over and opens the door:]
ALICE
Celia, I’m sorry but you’ve got to come in. Gwen’s –
CELIA
Shh-sh! I just got Jack to sleep.
Come in.
[Alice steps in, closing the door.]
ALICE
(strung out) You’ve got to come back to the office. Now. It’s – it’s, it’s all screwed up. Colin’s dead, and Lena’s gone – (Celia sucks in a sharp breath) – and Gwen says she’s in charge but that can’t be right because she has no idea what’s going on. And –
CELIA
Hold on! Hold on. Slow down.
Colin’s dead?
ALICE
Yeah. We think Freddie killed him.
CELIA
Freddie. As in…
ALICE
The case system. Yeah. I don’t – he was – chopped up inside the computer, and – and it’s all a mess, I don’t know what to do, you need to get back to the office.
CELIA
No, I don’t, Alice. And neither do you.
ALICE
What are you saying?
CELIA
We can choose not to get involved. The O.I.A.R. is a government department, right? Sounds like a problem for the government.
ALICE
What? No, that’s not – What about Sam?
CELIA
…
Sam’s gone, Alice.
ALICE
You keep saying that, it still doesn’t mean anything! Where is he gone?
CELIA
I – I don’t know. Not exactly. That thing in the basement – the tear, I think – I think it leads to somewhere else.
ALICE
(frustrated breath) Meaning?
CELIA
Another world, or dimension, or something.
ALICE
And how exactly do you know that?
CELIA
I –
Recognise it from a case.
ALICE
…Right. In that case, I’m going in after him. (faster) We’ll, yeah. We’ll tie a rope to my waist, and we’re going back –
CELIA
Alice, you can’t.
ALICE
Says who?
CELIA
Look, we don’t know what’ll happen! Even assuming you both survived, how do we know you’ll even end up in the same place?
ALICE
Then what do we do?! Because we are going to do something. You’re the reason Sam was there in the first place, and you owe it to us to help get him back.
[Jack starts crying again]
[Celia sighs]
CELIA
You’re right. Just – let me settle him back down, and I’ll call my babysitter.
ALICE
Good.
…Thank you.
CELIA
Come on, baby. Come on.
[Jack quiets a little]
CELIA
Shhh. Mummy’s here.
[Phone rings]
[Jack wails]
CELIA
(exasperated) Really?
ALICE
It’s Gwen.
[The audio shifts over to a landline recording]
[On her end, Gwen is pacing back and forth]
[It sounds like something is printing in the background?]
ALICE
What.
GWEN
Alice, have you got Celia yet? Are you on your way back?
[We can still hear Jack on the other end, wailing loudly]
ALICE
Yeah, she’s coming. Just sorting some stuff out.
GWEN
Well, hurry up and come back here.
ALICE
What’s wrong? Not feeling so in charge now you’re alone in the office with a killer computer?
GWEN
…
It’s using the photocopier.
ALICE
What do you mean, it’s using the photoco–
GWEN
It’s printing his face. Colin’s face. Over, and over. It won’t stop. (matter-of-fact) I tried pulling the plug, but it’s still going.
ALICE
Oh god. He’d hate that. He always wanted us to go paperless.
GWEN
Alice, how can you joke at a time like this? A man is dead.
ALICE
Oh, because right now it’s laugh or cry and at least I know Colin would have found that funny!
GWEN
(huffs) Whatever, just – hurry up.
ALICE
(scornfully) We’ll be there to change your nappy just as soon as we’ve finished with Jack’s.
GWEN
Alice –
ALICE
Just don’t open any email attachments until we get there.
GWEN
Alice don’t you dare hang up –
[Alice hangs up]
[Tape recorder clicks]
[The buzzing and scuttling is all around, as well as a weird thrumming, as Sam stumbles through something marshy]
SAM
Just – leave me alone!
[He gasps in pain as he keeps moving]
ECHOES
(whispering) Leave me alone!
[He stumbles and falls again]
[A new sound: a rumbling, growing louder]
SAM
(coughing) No – No–!
[But the rumbling resolves into an engine roar, which stops.]
DAVE
(distantly) I told you, didn’t I? Some kind of mud thing, or?
SAM
H-H-Help me!
DAVE
Holy crap. I think it’s a person!
SAM
Haah – Please –
DAVE
(closer now) How the hell did you get in here?
SAM
I – I don’t –
[The scuttling noises start to return]
DAVE
N-never mind. You can tell us later. For now we need to deal with those nasty bastards on your trail.
SAM
I-I need your help.
DAVE
(urgent) Yeah, I heard you the first time, but can you whistle?
SAM
I – Just shoot them!
DAVE
Won’t do much good, they’ve got your scent now. So unless you want to stay here and get messed up nice and proper by your new mates, you better start whistling something bloody cheerful. Nice and loud now, come on.
[Sam starts whistling “Entry of the Gladiators”]
DAVE
Not circus music, you cretin! Christ alive! Look, something cheery, something nice. Right now.
SAM
Uh…
[Sam starts whistling “Greensleeves”]
[The scuttling becomes confused]
DAVE
That’s… better. Not exactly good but it’ll do. Look, come on, then, quick smart. Don’t stop whistling. Nice and loud now!
[More “Greensleeves” as Sam drags himself into the vehicle]
[The door slams shut, and the engine starts up again]
[They begin to drive away into the distance]
[Click.]
[Beeps of a phone recording starting]
CELIA
Thanks so much for coming out at such short notice, Georgie. I know it’s late.
GEORGIE
Ah, you know I’m a night owl. I mean, not compared to you, but, still.
CELIA
(half a laugh) Right. Erm, everything is in the usual place, and I just put Jack back down to sleep, so he should stay down right through to morning.
GEORGIE
Not a problem if he doesn’t. I’ll be up either way.
[Celia sighs in relief]
CELIA
You’re a godsend.
GEORGIE
(smiling) I know.
So go on, then, what counts as an “emergency” at a government data entry job? (faux-serious) Did a spreadsheet catch fire?
CELIA
Something like that.
[She picks up her keys]
Listen, Georgie, I know I’ve been calling you a lot lately.
GEORGIE
(reassuring) Which is fine.
CELIA
But I just want you to know, I think things are looking up. All going well, this should be the last zero-notice callout.
GEORGIE
We’ll see.
ALICE
Cab’s here.
GEORGIE
(surprised) A cab? Wow, it must be urgent.
CELIA
Thanks again, Georgie. Any issues, just call me.
GEORGIE
Away with you. Auntie Georgie’s got everything in hand here.
[Beeps as the phone recording shuts off]
[Tape recorder starts up again]
[It sounds muffled. Almost like it’s hidden somewhere.]
SAM
Hellooo?
[Sounds of metal straining – he’s handcuffed]
[Sam makes a noise of exertion]
SAM
(tired) Is this… Is this necessary?
[No response]
Can you at least tell me where I am?
DAVE
(cheerfully) Shut up.
SAM
…I want a solicitor.
DAVE
I said, shut up. Captain should be here soon.
SAM
And they’ll explain?
DAVE
They’ll decide what to do with you.
SAM
(quieter) Alright.
[Pause]
SAM
…Can I please lie down? I don’t know if –
[Sounds of a heavy metal bolt being drawn back]
[Door opens]
DAVE
Captain.
GEORGIE
Dave.
Report?
DAVE
Got some weird readings at the center of the mile. Me and Heidi went to check it out, found… this.
GEORGIE
Hm.
Human?
SAM
For god’s sake…
DAVE
Doc reckons so. He’s in a bad way, though. Malnourishment, apparently. Doc wants him on a drip, but I told him you’d need to give the okay.
GEORGIE
Thanks, Dave. I’ll take it from here. See if you can find where he got in. There wasn’t a breach alert, so if we have a gap, I want to know about it.
[Dave audibly hesitates]
GEORGIE
I’ll be fine.
DAVE
…Sure thing, Captain. I’ll leave someone outside, just in case.
GEORGIE
(a little annoyed) Fine.
[Door closes, bolt slides shut]
SAM
Hellooo?
GEORGIE
Sam, is it?
SAM
…
I want a solicitor.
GEORGIE
(smirking) I’m not sure we’ve got any left.
SAM
What?
(tired and exasperated) Where am I?
GEORGIE
Name?
SAM
…
(reluctantly) Samama. Khalid.
[Sounds of Georgie writing]
GEORGIE
Right, Samama. So –
SAM
Sam.
GEORGIE
…Sam. You’re in a warden facility on the edge of the London Exclusion Zone.
SAM
How did I get here?
GEORGIE
From what I hear, you got a ride in Gertrude. Should be honored! She’s the longest surviving vehicle we’ve had. As for how you got right into the middle of the square mile without anyone noticing… that’s something I want you to tell me.
SAM
That… That wasn’t London. That was a nightmare.
GEORGIE
Hmm.
You a dreamer, Sam? Cultist? Possessed by some talking wooden idol? Seen it all before!
SAM
I work for civil service.
GEORGIE
…I stand corrected! So was that your domain, some Kafka bureaucracy thing? Not one of the bigger ones, but… it would make sense.
SAM
I don’t…
[His voice is growing woozy]
I was falling, and then. Celia. Then you. And…
GEORGIE
Sam? Sam – stay with me! (louder) Why did you break into the Zone?
SAM
I should’ve… Should’ve drunk the tea. Looked nice.
GEORGIE
Sam?
[No response]
[Georgie sighs, puzzled and concerned]
[Beeps as the landline recording starts up: we’re in the office again]
CELIA
– And then there was a flash, and I must have blacked out or something, because when I looked back, they were both gone.
GWEN
And you’re certain that this is some sort of portal, that they weren’t just…
ALICE
Don’t.
GWEN
…Disintegrated?
ALICE
I swear.
CELIA
Pretty sure, though I’m not sure “portal” is the right word.
GWEN
May I ask why?
ALICE
Licensing issues?
GWEN
Alice, please.
[Alice makes an annoyed noise]
CELIA
“Portal” makes it sound like it’s just a door between two places. This is… more complicated. We don’t know how many places it might lead to.
GWEN
Which is why you don’t advise attempting a rescue.
CELIA
I don’t think we can be sure we’ll end up where he was, and even if we did, it might be impossible to get back.
ALICE
This is bullshit!
GWEN
How sure are you of this, Celia?
CELIA
I’ve processed a decent number of cases like this over the last few months. They were all pretty consistent.
GWEN
Then I’m inclined to believe them.
[Alice snorts derisively]
GWEN
Alright. Given all I’ve heard here, I’m making an executive decision to prohibit direct interaction with the… phenomena below the Hilltop Center until we have more information.
ALICE
…
(muttered) Too bad you’re not in charge.
GWEN
Alice. I understand that Lena’s departure may have been more… abrupt, than you expected, but my promotion has already been officially ratified. You should have an email from the ministerial aide waiting in your inbox with the details. To put it simply: I’m your boss now, whether you like it, or not.
ALICE
(disbelieving almost-laugh) Oh, how convenient, that your only proof is sat in an inbox I can’t read in case it tries to eat me.
GWEN
It did not eat Colin! The system just… responded to an attack.
ALICE
By eating Colin.
GWEN
(controlled) I’m sure that as long as we don’t follow in his footsteps, we can maintain business as usual.
CELIA
Gwen… this is serious. I don’t think “business as usual” is going to cut it. Can you contact anyone more senior?
GWEN
The minister is…
ALICE
A useless sack of skin?
GWEN
Very busy. And even if I were to raise this, I doubt he could be much help. I’d be jeopardizing this office for nothing.
ALICE
Jeopardizing your payrise maybe. Colin’s dead. Sam’s gone. And your grand plan is to what? Keep calm and carry on?
GWEN
It’s essential that we understand what happened to Sam and what’s going on with the system before we take any action. I just think it would be better if we kept such investigations… off the books, as it were.
CELIA
That… makes sense?
[Alice makes a begrudging noise of agreement.]
GWEN
Naturally, neither I nor the O.I.A.R. accept liability for your safety in these investigations, since they are not part of your official work duties.
That said, I will, of course, understand if you both wish to leave. I’ll even add a competitive severance package, which I think is more than generous given the circumstances.
ALICE
Piss off. We’re staying.
CELIA
(torn) I…
ALICE
Celia, please. We’ve got to get him back.
CELIA
…
Okay.
ALICE
(heartfelt) Thank you.
[Beat.]
GWEN
Right! Well in that case, if there’s nothing else, I believe you both have an extensive backlog to be getting on with.
ALICE
Meaning all your cases, right?
GWEN
(sigh) Eh, partially! Now, if you don’t mind, I am very busy.
[Alice snorts]
[She and Celia stand and move to leave]
GWEN
Oh, and Alice?
[Alice stops]
GWEN
I expect you to show me a little more respect moving forward.
(audible smirk) I am your manager, after all.
ALICE
Hm. Then, respectfully, you can kiss my ar–
[Click]
[We’re back in the London Exclusion Zone: it’s a little calmer and quieter now, although there are still unearthly noises]
HEIDI
(into radio) Just finishing sector 11 now. No breaches in or out, all seems solid. Over.
DAVE
(on radio) Yeah. Nothing over in 7 either. How the hell did he get in?
HEIDI
Beats me. Moving on to 12.
[Footsteps]
[She stops, noticing something]
Ah. Still here, then.
[Heidi cautiously approaches, then picks up the tape recorder]
Hmm. Wait. You’re still running?
Oh, shit. You’re… recording me.
[Distant footsteps, unnoticed]
HEIDI (STATEMENT)
(compelled) Recording me so closely. Beady camera eyes pushing ever nearer. Scanning for a slip, a shudder, a crack in the facade. To show that I was weak. That I trembled. That I was afraid.
They watched me every second of every minute of every hour of every day, of every week of every month of every year of every eternity that was no time at all, and above it all the thing for which the cameras danced, the great and terrible eye that watched it all.
[The distant footsteps have arrived. They stop.]
It came to me when I was watching as well. Working security, walking the halls, watching the portraits as they watched me back. Like I was trained. Police, not long, couple of months. Bad culture fit, they said, but that was okay. Always another job for a watcher. The punters came and stared and gawped, and I watched them in turn. Sat in the corner of a gallery all through pixellated camera eyes.
I liked it. I felt powerful.
We had all heard of the Magnus Institute. The weirdos next door, that grand old building where people took their ghosts and their stories and got nightmares in return. Pasty academics and shifty-looking bookworms that never looked you in the eye.
But one day, it was gone. It was all gone. The world and the people and London and you. And all that was left was the watching, and the Institute, towering over everything.
Then the cameras turned on me. Long metal legs sharp and scraping as they chased me through the streets. They clambered over empty buildings, crawled through broken windows and pushed their way up through rusted sewer grates. Always searching for me. Always staring at me, closer, closer. Focused. Hungry.
Their lenses were cracked and shattered but it didn’t matter. If they caught you, cornered you, pinned you with their razor tripod legs, then those lenses would open, cracked glass blossoming like iris leached jaws, and they would cut you with their jagged edges, and as you bled, as you screamed and cried and begged, they did not drink you, they did not eat you, they watched. They watched and watched and watched your crimson fear as it trickled down to the floor, bloodshot eyes behind broken lenses.
Sometimes you could hide. The corner of a darkened flat. Halfway up a long-quiet tower block. Under the stinking cardboard at the end of a blind alley. In the basement of a silent shop, among the plastic reminders of a time when joy existed.
But you would still hear the cameras searching for you. Skittering. Scratching. Panning left to right as they sniffed you out.
Hiding was no relief, just a different sort of terror. The lingering sickness of anticipation building to the sharp peak of panic as you heard the whirring of their zoom in the shadows. And then you were running once again.
I wasn’t alone, but it didn’t matter. The streets were empty and the other poor lost souls of London were only there to run, to cry, to bleed, to fear. If you found another, a fellow victim of the scrutiny, there was a moment of hope. But it was a bitter hope that you might trick them, shove them, cry out and reveal their hiding spot, feed them to the cameras so you might have a minute, a second, an instant of peace. Albeit one tainted by guilt.
I used to see them in my dreams. Those others who fled with me. I knew their faces and we ran together in our sleep long after the nightmare ended, but I did not search for them, did not embrace it. And eventually the dreams faded.
But the scars didn’t. Not when the tower fell and the eye closed. Not when the pupil collapsed and the Archivist died, his face still burned into my mind. Not when I picked myself up in a cracked but unbroken world. Not when people started to use words like “recover,” “rebuild” or “renew.” The scars carved into me by those hungry cameras still stood stark.
I couldn’t move on. Couldn’t leave it behind. No previous words from pompous shrinks could help me. Their eyes were as hollow and dead as mine. Not that I could bear to look at them.
So I came here. If I cannot escape, then neither can they. I would keep the lingering things of dread contained and be the watcher once more.
But now… I know it was for nothing.
(slowly growing angrier) I know this feeling. I know what it is to be watched, judged, scrutinized. To have your terror wrung from you like water from a dirty rag, leaving you twisted and dry and empty. I cannot stop you. And I know that this is the end.
[Heidi starts struggling to speak.]
But with the last of me… of my fear… you can take my hate. My loathing.
This place is not for you. There is no place left for monsters.
We – will – be – your – end – and I – will – watch.
[Heidi collapses]
[A long, satisfied static-sigh from the Archivist, then nothing]
DAVE
(on radio) Sector 8 clear. You finished 12 yet?
[Silence]
DAVE
…Heidi.
[Silence]
DAVE
Heidi, you there?
[Click.]
[Music]
ANNOUNCER
The Magnus Protocol is a podcast distributed by Rusty Quill and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial Sharealike 4.0 International License. The series is created by Jonathan Sims and Alexander J Newall, and directed by Alexander J Newall.
This episode was written by Jonathan Sims and edited with additional materials by Alexander J Newall, with vocal edits by Nico Vettese, soundscaping by Meg Mckellar, and mastering by Catherine Rinella with music by Sam Jones.
It featured Billie Hindle as Alice Dyer, Shahan Hamza as Samama Khalid, Anusia Battersby as Gwen Bouchard, Lowri Ann Davies as Celia Ripley, Ryan Hopevere-Anderson as Colin Becher, Sasha Sienna as Georgie Barker, with additional voices from Jonathan Sims and Beth Eyre.
The Magnus Protocol is produced by April Sumner, with executive producers Alexander J Newall, Dani McDonough, Linn Ci, and Samantha F.G. Hamilton, and Associate Producers Jordan L. Hawk, Taylor Michaels, Nicole Perlman, Cetius d’Raven, and Megan Nice.
To subscribe, view associated materials, or join our Patreon, visit rustyquill.com. Rate and review us online, tweet us @therustyquill, visit us on Facebook, or email us via mail@rustyquill.com.
Thanks for listening.