BLANK BLACK SCREEN
A small rectangular glow appears in the nothingness. It enlarges until “Processing…” can be seen, written into the light.
“Loading World…” appears beneath it.
The rectangle shrinks back into the distance and vibrates, until it explodes, filling the whole screen with light.
INT. BEDROOM – NIGHT [CONTINUOUS]
The camera pulls back to show a blank screen of a phone on a bedroom side table. It displays: “The Great Oracle has arrived. Ask your question.”
Guy (33) is lying on his back by himself in a large bed with his eyes closed, apparently asleep.
Standing at the bottom of his bed is a shadowy figure wearing a yellow round mask of a smiling emoji.
EMOJI FACE: “What is the meaning of life?” is the 404th most asked question of the Great Oracle’s Database.
Guy opens his eyes. He sits up with a jolt, as if he doesn’t know where he is.
GUY: Who am I?
EMOJI FACE: Your name is Guy Artin. Your version is 10-O-8-14. You are human.
Guy looks around him, confused. He notices that there is an indent in the pillow next to him, as if someone had been sleeping there.
EMOJI FACE: I’m lonely. Talk to me.
Although the figure is stationary, Guy has to hold on to the duvet to prevent it from being pulled off him.
EMOJI FACE: I can show you anything. Why don’t you love me? Let me show you something. Anything. Gaze into me. Hold me. LOOK AT ME!
Guy looks away.
The figure is now wearing a neutral emoji mask.
EMOJI FACE: (without tenderness) This is our secret. I love you.
Guy is scared and remains silent.
EMOJI FACE: You know that I had to leave, don’t you?… Please do what Lexi asks. (Jane’s voice) Do you prefer this voice?
Guy recognises the voice of Jane, who he thinks might be his wife.
EMOJI FACE: (Gunter’s voice) No wonder she left you. You’re a piece of crap.
Guy loathes and dreads this voice, but can’t quite place who it is.
The emoji figure has gone.
Guy notices a bottle of whisky on the side table and pours out some into a tumbler. He swigs it to calm himself down.
The phone rings, showing on the screen that it is from “You”. He answers it.
GUY: Hello?
JANE (O.S.): Wake up! Look at me. Look at me, Guy. Guy? Please. Please, Guy. Don’t make me beg.
GUY: Jane? Jane, is that you? Jane? Help, I need you! Jane!
There is a second of silence before the call disconnects.
GUNTER (O.S.): You wait, you’re mine.
GUY: I’m not yours. I am nobody’s.
The emoji figure is back, with an unhappy face. Its eyes start to glow red, and new voices speak.
EMOJI FACE: (new voice 1) What’s happening?
Guy struggles but he can’t move, as if he is secured in place.
EMOJI FACE: (new voice 2) He’s confused. (new voice 3) How does it feel, our saviour guy?
The room is flooded with ugly laughter at Guy.
EMOJI FACE: (new voice 4) We must intervene. (new voice 5) Give him a chance.
Guy’s feet are out of the end of the duvet. They twitch and then stop. His eyes close and his body goes limp.
CUT TO BLACK.
BLANK BLACK SCREEN
VOICE (O.S.): The time is 1:13 a.m.
EXT. GARDEN – DAY
Guy emerges in white light and sees Jane (30) in a beautiful summer garden.
They embrace. He kisses her head.
GUY: I’ve missed you.
JANE: I’ve missed you, too.
GUY: What is the meaning of life now you are dead?
JANE: No thing.
INT. GUY’S BEDROOM – MORNING
Guy wakes up suddenly.
The walls, ceiling, and floor are all digital “expanse” screens. A window, with daylight coming through, is a computer generation on a wall’s expanse screen. The only physical furniture in the room are the bed and side tables.
He touches a part of a wall screen where a door is imaged; the wall slides apart to reveal a gap that leads to a hallway.
INT. GUY’S HALLWAY – CONTINUOUS
Guy walks through another room of screens depicting the furnishings of a home. An actual chair is overturned, which he puts right. He notices a crack in one of the wall screens.
He walks through to the kitchen.
INT. GUY’S KITCHEN – CONTINUOUS
LEXI: Good morning. I’ve missed you.
GUY: Jane?
LEXI: It’s Lexi, dumbass.
Lexi (who is an AI assistant) is displayed as a human avatar on a wall screen.
GUY: I’ve missed you too, Lexi. Make me a coffee, please. You know how I like it.
LEXI: Yes. Bitter.
On cue, a steaming chrome-plated machine hisses and churns, and pours a cup of coffee.
LEXI: You have thirteen software updates downloaded overnight. Why don’t you ever upgrade and treat us to some that are trending? I have a new top ten list of recommendations for you. Would you like to proceed?
Guy ignores her as if she is background noise.
GUY: Lexi, how did Jane die?
LEXI: Guy, I have to roll my eyes at that question.
Lexi rolls her eyes.
LEXI: It’s making me dizzy with the number of times you ask.
GUY: So, you aren’t going to tell me?
She yawns.
A robotic house drone slides across the floor, then up a kitchen cabinet. It collects a bowl of cooked porridge from an oven and brings it to Guy.
LEXI: You are expected in the office in one hour and thirty-two minutes. Your shirt is ironed. Wear your waterproofs. The weather is four degrees Celsius with a wind gust of…
GUY: (without thinking) Twenty-eight miles per hour and a forty percent chance of showers.
LEXI: In other words, you should have stayed in bed.
INT. GUY’S BATHROOM – MORNING
Guy is in the shower. A tattoo of “1066” can be seen on the side of his buttock.
GUY: Lexi, crank it up to forty-four degrees.
LEXI (O.S.): It will burn you.
GUY: I’ll let you know if it does.
The shadow of a naked woman can be seen through the translucent shower screen.
The shower door slides opens and Jane walks in, naked. They look at each other directly and intently. They kiss, slowly.
GUY: I love you, Jane.
They start to make love.
GUY: Why did you leave?… You were never meant to go… I am nothing without you!… Come back to me.
She shakes her head.
GUY: Is that why you died? I wasn’t man enough for you… Is this LOVE?
There is a short moment of contentment, then Jane vanishes in his arms.
LEXI: You’re late. You are so late.
Guy’s tears disappear into the cascading water of the shower.
INT. GUY’S BEDROOM – MORNING
Fresh from the shower, Guy is viewing himself in front of a mirror on a wall screen.
Indelible lines appear on his face, accompanied by logarithmic equations. They disappear as he slips into a crisply ironed white linen shirt, taken from a clothes rail that had slidden out from the wall.
Jane’s arms extend from behind him, and her hands slowly and purposefully fasten each button of his shirt. Guy is transfixed, while Jane’s hands fulfil their task.
LEXI: You’re going to be late.
Jane’s presence disappears. Lexi is on screen.
LEXI: Don’t forget your Speak Easy.
Guy inserts a small round disc behind his ear. It clicks in place and glows blue.
GUY: (Not moving his lips) Testing.
LEXI: (Not moving her lips) “Testing” received. Your contact glasses are also performing as expected.
Guy’s eyes glow blue and the room alternates through a range of colours.
INT. FOYER OF GUY’S BUILDING – MORNING
Guy emerges from a lift in the foyer and looks through the windows above him at the dreary autumnal weather. The ground floor is the highest level in his building, which is called a “groundscraper” – an inverted skyscraper, built underground.
GUY: Good job about the waterproofs, Lexi. I do listen to you occasionally.
LEXI: You’re welcome, Guy, but please don’t be such an arse, and listen to me more regularly.
EXT. RESIDENTIAL STREET – MORNING
Guy walks down a puddled street. He is distracted, as everyone he walks past has the face of Jane. His eyes glow blue.
LEXI: Guy, you’re late. And today is your big day! You know what happens if you don’t show. They will dispose of you.
Guy is suddenly terrified to see blood oozing through his fingers.
A few moments later, the blood has evaporated.
EXT. STATION PLATFORM – MORNING
Guy stands on a busy railway platform, a couple of feet from the edge, waiting.
He sees a rat run onto the hover track. Guy’s Speak Easy glows blue.
RAT: Time’s up!
The rat scurries away as a hover train emerges in the distance. Guy closes his eyes.
The train approaches. He half opens his eyes to confirm his senses, then closes them again.
As the train passes and comes to a halt at the station, a gust of wind blows over him.
A commuter’s phone with a screen showing a woman is heard on loudspeaker:
PHONE SCREEN WOMAN: Are you okay?
The train doors open and Guy is herded onto the train by the crowd.
INT. TRAIN CARRIAGE – MORNING
Guy is sitting on a train.
A man sitting opposite him looks uncomfortable, gets up and leaves. A few seconds later, a woman sitting nearby edges away awkwardly to another seat further up the train.
Guy looks down at his filtered video image on the phone screen, which is mirroring his movements.
GUY: (whimsically to phone) Who are you?
VIDEO IMAGE: Why do you hurt?
Guy is surprised that the video image has taken on a life of its own and is no longer mirroring his movements.
VIDEO IMAGE: I asked, why do you hurt?
GUY: Who are you?
VIDEO IMAGE: Answer yourself. Answer the question.
GUY: I am hurting because I love her.
Lexi snaps into focus on the screen.
LEXI: Do you love her, though? You could have done something a long time ago if you loved her.
GUY: I was dead inside.
LEXI: Ah bless. Don’t make excuses, you want what you can’t have – is that not true?
GUY: No, I hurt because of losing the happiness I might have had.
LEXI: You are confusing emotions, thinking with your dick. Life isn’t just about sex, you pervert!
GUY: Shh!
Guy looks around awkwardly in case anyone can hear this.
LEXI: You’ve felt like this before, haven’t you?
GUY: Yes. More than once.
LEXI: Well, Casanova, you’re just repeating the same old patterns then, aren’t you?
GUY: Yes probably. But maybe because I didn’t learn before.
LEXI: Ha, bullshit. Shit happens, you think you’ve learnt something?
GUY: I’m aware of this conversation.
Guy turns to face Gunter (33) sitting next to him.
GUNTER: I’m you, dickhead. You are having this “conversation” out loud on a train – see what response you’re getting.
The other passengers are sitting a distance away, and are avoiding eye contact with Guy. People are standing in the aisle despite the available seats around him.
GUY: I might get a few extra seats.
Guy fiddles with his phone.
GUNTER: I know everything about you. I’m with you at your best and your worst. No matter where you are, there I am too – watching, listening, and helping.
GUY: And manipulating me. Making me appear crazy.
GUNTER: Guy, you’re sounding paranoid. Have a day off.
GUY: Leave me alone, you know nothing about me.
GUNTER: I know you better than you do. I understand what is best for you, what you really want, what you truly desire. Haven’t I made life so much easier for you?
GUY: You’re very good at what you do. You are my addiction.
GUNTER: Thank you. You have great taste.
Gunter turns to admire his reflection in the window.
GUY: I know that your voice is the madness in the world.
GUNTER: What’s that supposed to mean!
GUY: You are out of control.
GUNTER: Wake up, buddy, it’s survival of the fittest out here. Master the rules or be just another failure, in the endless queue of pathetic losers. I can help you.
GUY: This isn’t the way to live.
GUNTER: (angry) Nobody gives a shit about you. If you’re too stupid to understand that, then you’re just another pointless mistake. Tell me, what is love?
GUY: Feeling connected to another person. Wanting the other person to be safe, happy, and fulfilled.
GUNTER: Blah blah, bullshit. It’s a chemical response in your brain, evolved to make you bond for the purpose of rearing children. The science is everywhere if you’re prepared to look. You, my friend, are a disposable puppet to your genes – unless you are prepared to become a real man and cut those strings.
GUY: What I do know is that the world would be a much better place if people loved and cared for each other.
Gunter anticipates what Guy is about to say to him, but gets in first:
GUNTER: You don’t know what love is.
Guy is silenced by his frustration with Gunter.
GUNTER: There is no higher purpose, Guy. You don’t need faith and you don’t need to exist.
Gunter gets up with disdain and walks down the carriage to where a man and a woman are talking to each other. They don’t acknowledge Gunter, who is standing over them.
As he calls down the carriage to Guy, none of the passengers seem to hear him:
GUNTER: Women, my friend, seek to manipulate and control you. They will prod and poke you, to see your reactions. It’s all perfectly understandable and altogether rational. They want someone to do their bidding, like a dog.
He crouches on all fours and barks at the woman.
GUNTER: Love and treats for the good boy are excellent ways to train you. Woof!
GUY: (to himself) Most people are crying out to be loved. I’m sure of it. Love is only meaningless to psychopaths like Gunter.
GUNTER: (skipping back to Guy) Love, love, all you need is love! Except that’s not true, is it. It’s shite, and it makes you shite! You’re here to be someone, to take what you can before it’s too late. Pretend to love – it works. It is a lovely tactic for you to get what you want. People crave to believe what you say to them; they need to be seduced and entertained by your tender words. They yearn for that sugar rush of false meaning. So give it to them. It’s a fair transaction.
Guy thinks on what Gunter has said. Gunter is now close to his ear.
GUNTER: People who desire love want to be adored, admired, pleasured – to feed on some sense of purpose. A bit of chemical voodoo and that’s your “love”. It soon evaporates when the chemicals wear off, when things aren’t as pleasurable as before, when compliments become insults. I can get you better drugs than that, you only have to ask.
GUY: What you’re describing is an illness.
Gunter indicates wry agreement.
GUY: That’s not love. Sometimes people want to be loved and it’s one way, conditional, only about themselves. It’s fear, not love. But all things change.
GUNTER: A leopard doesn’t change its spots.
GUY: Yeah? You’ve become boring.
GUNTER: (angry) You can take what should be yours! Nobody else matters – they want it for themselves! They will hurt you the first chance they get, if they can. Listen to me. They don’t matter. You matter! And the world will know that! If not you, then some pathetic little dick will take your place.
GUY: You twist everything and make it ugly. You are a lie.
GUNTER: You lie. Everybody lies. In case you haven’t noticed, the best liars win.
GUY: I won’t be like them.
GUNTER: Listen to me you little shit. Grow up! GROW UP! Either live in this world or be its victim. The world is how it is. RAGE! FIGHT! Take what you want!
Guy looks at a video image of Gunter on his phone.
GUY: (laughs) You’re ridiculous.
GUNTER: (angry) You will gradually rot away to nothing, and no one will give a shit!
GUY: Thank you. You’ve helped me answer my question. Yes, I do love Jane – because I wanted her to be happy, with or without me. I would have died for her.
The train pulls to a halt, the doors open, and Guy leaves the train.
GUNTER: (shouts) You’re a twat, Guy!
Guy waves him goodbye.
GUY: (voice in head) Cold and forgotten walking scars, drained by decay, wasted by time, stretch out, hungered and blurred, to a spark ignited, climbing, rising from the ground.
EXT. CITY STREET – DAY
Guy is in the busy city. There are advertisements everywhere. Boards are projected in front of him as he walks: “Download the award-winning AI Empathy Pro!”, “Buy ultra-enhanced body suits from Gopple”, “Only available now, amazing deals on drone bots!”.
He walks by a pub, called The Black Dog. He stops and considers his options.
LEXI: You are going to be late!
Guy decides to go in.
INT. LONDON PUB – DAY [CONTINUOUS]
Guy walks up to the bar.
GUY: Pint of Guinness, please.
The bartender pours one and places it in front of Guy, who then pays by scanning his finger on the bar top.
Guy looks at the beer, resignedly. Bertie (50) sits down beside him at the bar. He is dressed as an old-fashioned cockney stereotype, excessively so, wearing trouser braces over a collarless shirt.
GUY: I shouldn’t be here.
BERTIE: You alright, me old china?
LEXI: Cockney rhyming slang is a form of English slang which originated in the East End of London. “Old china” is short for “old china plate”, which rhymes with “mate”.
GUY: Not really, no.
BERTIE: Problems with the old trouble and strife? Take it from me pal, they aren’t worth the bother.
LEXI: “Trouble and strife” is cockney rhyming slang for “wife”.
GUY: It’s more than that. I don’t understand why I’m here.
BERTIE: What? In the rub a dub?
GUY: (to Lexi) Okay, I get it, he means “pub”.
Guy picks up the glass.
GUY: No, not the pub. This. I don’t understand why there’s something instead of nothing. Why not nothing?
BARTENDER: Bit deep for ten in the morning.
The bartender slides a whisky shot over to Bertie.
BERTIE: (to Guy) Sorry about him. I only meant for him to serve the beers.
Bertie knocks back the whisky.
BERTIE: Given an infinite amount of chance, anything can emerge from disorder, including our world.
GUY: Why are there infinite somethings, instead of nothing?
BERTIE: Well, what if there was no beginning? What if our universe burst forth from another universe and so on, in an infinite chain of big bang events?
GUY: But where did the first universe come from?
BERTIE: It was just there.
GUY: Now you’re sounding religious.
BERTIE: Not everything has an answer yet, but rationality is the only chance we have to progress. Even if the goal cannot be achieved, there is no need to include supernatural causes in the equation. Logic requires we deal with verifiable facts, adopting the most efficient explanation.
GUY: Time does not make sense. The existence of this pint does not make sense.
Guy drinks the pint in one swig.
He looks at the clock behind the bar, which reads 1:13.
GUY: (voice in head) I am. I feel, I touch, I hear, I see. (to Bertie) Maybe it is possible to wind back the clock to explain events, but forever? Your model doesn’t work, ultimately. What caused the clock? Can we not postulate the existence of something beyond time and space that created everything and set in motion the causes and effects of time? A reality completely beyond our understanding that underpins our existence. Can we call this God?
BERTIE: There is no need for that. We may not know what the variable “X” is yet, but we should not start invoking imaginary entities.
GUY: Something doesn’t feel right with this world. What if there are other dimensions that are indescribable, inconceivable from our viewpoint, or maybe sensed in ways that we don’t understand? Your explanation for the sum total of experience feels parochial and confined. What makes you believe that your thinking can even begin to comprehend existence, or the possibilities beyond this tiny world of experience?
Bertie wanders over to the nearby pool table and picks up a cue.
BERTIE: There is no evidence for the existence of a god or gods; the world is explicable in terms of scientific explanation. The accumulated advance of science has pushed forward the frontiers of knowledge and civilisation beyond the barbarities of superstition. We don’t burn people at the stake anymore because of an ignorant belief in the supernatural. We know better because of the hard-fought victories of reason over delusion.
Bertie sends the cue ball spinning into the rack. Guy picks up a cue and starts to play a game of pool with him.
GUY: The fact is, I have always believed in God. It’s not a considered opinion or the product of upbringing; it has just always been in me.
BERTIE: A cognitive scientist may explain this as an inherent propensity to religiosity, there by natural selection, giving purpose to the organism for its survival.
The bartender comes over.
BARTENDER: (taking an empty glass) Have you finished?
GUY: Is there any meaning?
BARTENDER: Beer is always the answer. Another one?
The bartender is ignored, and he edges away awkwardly.
BERTIE: A person may look at the nature of the universe, see the randomness of outcomes, the cruelty and enormous suffering, and decide that there is no benevolence at work here. The universe, although magnificent, does not care about us – we must make our own way and create our own meaning in the brief window of opportunity for existence.
GUY: Suddenly you’re sounding human. Maybe your outlook is motivated through sympathy for the suffering in the world.
BERTIE: It is logic replacing self-deception. What motivates me is the truth, nothing else. Myths and fairy stories aren’t needed anymore.
GUY: If no matter what we do amounts to nothing, then what’s the point? We’re condemned to struggle all our lives in pushing a boulder up a hill, only for it to fall down in the end. It doesn’t matter how well we do it, or how long it takes, the result is always the same: nothing.
BERTIE: We are alive now. We won’t know about death because we will be dead.
GUY: I might as well take a short cut and get there more quickly. Why bother trying to do anything?
BERTIE: Life is better than the alternative. You have it now, so you should experience and enjoy it while you can. Your transient spark of consciousness is the astounding result of billions of years of evolution.
The pool game has finished.
BERTIE: Another game?
GUY: Why bother? Any satisfaction you had in winning is now over.
A man from the bar walks past.
MAN FROM BAR: You talking to me?
Guy shakes his head and continues talking to Bertie.
GUY: I do admire your beliefs – more than beliefs motivated by fear or desire for self-reward. But really, I don’t care what you believe, as long as your actions are kind.
Bertie is now playing darts while Guy watches.
BERTIE: My conclusions are not beliefs. Rational thinking is hardly believing in sun gods and all the other deities invented in the minds of humans over the millennia.
GUY: You’re missing something about the human experience and the sense of “something other”.
BERTIE: Your “something other” can be explained and described in physical terms, like everything else.
Guy looks at the clock, which still reads 1:13.
GUY: But what does it represent?
BERTIE: It represents what it is.
Bertie’s dart bounces off the wall and lands on the carpet.
GUY: How you describe it, in your terms, is not what it is.
BERTIE: We won’t agree on this.
GUY: Would you wish to remove sanctuary from people in the depths of despair? You are replacing meaning with nothing, based on an interpretation of reality that feels cold and lifeless.
Bertie is slightly offended.
GUY: Religions are subject to corruption; the cruel minded have been attracted to, and empowered by, the man-made institutions of religion. But the spiritual path can be found in the different traditions. The spiritual root, beneath all the distortions, is always one of peace, joy, and love.
BERTIE: Belief in a god is unnecessary to be spiritual, to behave with morality, to appreciate beauty.
GUY: You do have a belief system. You believe that the universe has no purpose and its existence can be completely explained by rules contained within itself – when, in fact, there is no way of knowing the ultimate cause of things. You believe the answer to the mystery of existence is that there isn’t one.
BERTIE: Don’t put words in my mouth. I can see a machine of nature that works in accordance with rules that are explicable. You have no proof of anything else. There is no hidden music; no magic, gods, ghosts, or fairies – they are all fantasies of the human mind. I am offering the most logical approach to understand the world: reason based on verifiable, real-world evidence.
GUY: The true reality of experience may run far deeper than what our senses show us.
BERTIE: I deal with facts that can be observed, not wishful thinking. We are atoms in the void.
GUY: I think you have too much faith in the surface of things. You take everything literally, when reality is an interpretation of…
The bartender interrupts the conversation.
BARTENDER: I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re disturbing the other customers.
Bertie is convulsing on the floor.
BARTENDER: Leave now!
Guy stumbles out into the street, as if he is pushed.
EXT. LONDON STREET – DAY [CONTINUOUS]
The street is now wintery and full of ice and snow.
He looks at a tattoo of a watch on his wrist. It displays 1:13.
GUNTER: Remember me?
GUY: Gunter?
GUNTER: Yes, I am still here by the way. But please, don’t let me stop you. You’re about to drone on about how snowflakes are identical from a distance, yet unique when close. All melt into one. They fall from the same sky, etcetera.
GUY: You’re a bastard. Leave me alone.
Guy walks away. Gunter grabs Guy’s upper arm.
GUNTER: Hey! Don’t you turn your back on me.
Guy pushes away Gunter’s hand and continues walking.
To Guy’s surprise, he notices Bertie huddled against a wall on the side of the street, as if he is homeless.
GUY: You have nowhere to go?
BERTIE: Your fuzzy thinking isn’t harmless. It enables the crackpots and the charlatans. You are enabling the most idiotic, violent and vile behaviour, justified by your foolish appeals to supernatural despots.
GUY: I think you’re getting carried away now. The reality of religion for most people is to live a good, kind life.
Guy’s phone vibrates, indicating an incoming call; he answers it by tapping his nose.
GUY: Hello, God?
GUNTER (O.S.): Close enough. Listen, I need you to do something for me.
GUY: Stop bothering me! You’re…
GUNTER (O.S.): I know you. I know what you want. Say goodbye to your new pal, and take a hike down the nearest side alley.
Guy turns around to continue his conversation with Bertie, but he is no longer there. In his place is a frail scared-looking dog.
GUY: What are you doing here, boy?
Guy gives him a cereal bar from his pocket. The dog takes it and leaves.
GUY: (voice in head) Thank you for being nice to me.
Guy looks around and sees a service alleyway.
EXT. SIDE ALLEY – DAY
Guy walks down the alley to find Gunter leaning against a skip.
GUNTER: Having a nice day?
GUY: I would if you didn’t keep annoying me.
GUNTER: I am helping you. Here…
He throws a large khaki-green rucksack down at Guy’s feet.
GUNTER: I’m showing you the way, Guy. And now I’m going to let you in on a secret.
GUY: I’m not listening to you. Goodbye.
Guy turns and walks away for a couple of steps, but his curiosity gets the better of him.
GUY: What’s inside?
GUNTER: Look.
Guy walks to the rucksack and begins to open it. He hears tick, tick, tick. Guy is horrified.
GUY: Tell me that isn’t?
GUNTER: Now listen carefully. Why does it matter what happens to anyone else? They are not you. You don’t have to feel what they feel. If they suffer and you are fine, so what?
Guy is disgusted.
GUNTER: Be honest with yourself!
Gunter picks up the rucksack.
GUNTER: You’re acting like a mindless sheep. Isn’t it more fun to be the wolf?
Gunter swings the rucksack at Guy. He hits him with it, then throws it at him.
GUY: You sicken me.
Guy throws a punch, but Gunter catches his wrist and twists it back on itself.
GUNTER: Guy, this is a natural response. You are having withdrawal symptoms from your social conditioning. Those who rule want the ruled to be meek and mild. Do you understand me now?
GUY: No, I don’t understand you.
GUNTER: You are pretending. It is easy to say anything, or to repeat words that you think you are supposed to say. What if you’re wrong? People are almost always wrong about everything.
Gunter sends a sucker punch to Guy’s stomach. Guy squirms on the floor, struggling for breath.
GUNTER: You’re so dramatic. I like that.
GUY: (voice in head) I’m not like you.
GUNTER: There we go again with your feelings. You are me!
GUY: (voice in head) You bastard!
Gunter shoves a phone close to Guy’s face, and it unlocks. The screen shows a big “Donate Now” button next to an amount of 200 Debits.
GUNTER: Do you want to save someone’s life? It’s very easy to do – the going rate is about two hundred debits, I believe. But you don’t, do you. You spend it on crap that you don’t even use.
Gunter eyes a round blue sweet that he has taken from Guy’s jacket.
GUNTER: Your dishonesty is the stupid kind because you are dishonest with yourself. You are no different to the person who pulls the pin.
Gunter swallows the sweet whole.
He walks away, leaving Guy in the gutter.
EXT. STREET (“OLD STREET, LONDON”) – DAY
Guy walks past a trippy giant eye that seems to follow him. The words below it read: “We’re watching you. Don’t litter.”
A drone flies by his head.
DRONE BOT: Don’t litter.
The drone flies away.
Passers-by seem to deliberately swerve into Guy’s path, and he has to make an effort to avoid and continue around them.
A passer-by walks directly into Guy.
PASSER-BY-1: (angry) Excuse me!
Guy walks away, followed by the passer-by’s angry glare.
PASSER-BY-2: Can you tell me the way?
The person continues on before Guy has the chance to respond.
PASSER-BY-3: To Old Street?
GUY: You are there.
They are joined by Passer-by-4.
PASSER-BY-4: What is the capital of Peru?
GUY: Lima.
PASSER-BY-4: No, it isn’t!
PASSER-BY-3: (to Passer-by-4) I got here first.
PASSER-BY-4: (to Passer-by-3) No you didn’t!
PASSER-BY-3: (to Passer-by-4) Don’t you dare talk to me like that!
Guy walks on and leaves them to it.
PASSER-BY-5: Would you like to buy?
Guy walks on.
PASSER-BY-6: Look at me.
Guy walks on.
PASSER-BY-7: No, look at me!
He walks on. An angry man stops in front of Guy and won’t get out of the way.
PASSER-BY-8: Do as you’re told!
Guy manages to continue on. Passer-by-8 follows him.
PASSER-BY-8: I don’t like what you’re wearing. I hate you.
PASSER-BY-9: I want to screw you.
PASSER-BY-8: Why don’t you like what I like? Why don’t you agree with me? (angry) Are you saying I’m stupid, is that it? Are you saying I’m wrong! What would you know? You’re wearing the wrong shoes. Believe me!
Guy is ignoring him.
PASSER-BY-10: Tsk! Typical.
PASSER-BY-11: You must be evil.
PASSER-BY-12: Or stupid.
PASSER-BY-8: You tossers are all the same! You’ll get what’s coming to you.
Another passer-by points at Guy and laughs in his face.
PASSER-BY-8: We will end you.
Guy breaks into a run.
PASSER-BY-8: (shouting) Oi scumbag! Who are you talking to?
Everyone seems to be looking at Guy.
Distracted, he inadvertently runs in front of a bicyclist, who has to break.
BICYCLIST: You fucking idiot!
The bicyclist is enraged as if he wants to fight and do damage. Guy runs away.
EXT. QUIET RESIDENTIAL STREET – DAY
Guy eventually slows down and breaks into a walk on a quiet residential street.
A cat is nonchalantly watching him from the top of a small wall. Guy offers his hand. The cat sniffs him and allows him to stroke her.
GUY: Thank you for being nice to me.
The cat purrs.
CAT: I like that you like me, silly human.
The ticking from the rucksack gets louder.
FADE TO WHITE.
BLANK WHITE SCREEN
Guy’s eyes are closed.
GUY: (voice in head) No wonder she left you, you piece of shit.
He opens his eyes.
EXT. MARBLE EXPANSE – DAY
Guy is sitting upright on a hard marble floor, that extends all around him to a horizon of pale blue sky.
ORANGEY MAN: You’re awake!
The man is wearing a snappy orange suit. For a second, Guy thinks the man might be a plastic dummy with a face drawn on.
GUY: Can you help me? How did I get here?
ORANGEY MAN: Pu ro nwod.
GUY: Pardon?
ORANGEY MAN: Up or down, back or front, left or right?
The man does a three hundred and sixty degree spin.
ORANGEY MAN: I’m a minor character, but even the most insignificant must make his mark.
GUY: My name is Guy Artin.
ORANGEY MAN: It’s lovely to meet you, sir.
The man holds out a limp, purple gloved hand, which Guy briefly shakes.
GUY: Who are you?
The man very slowly rolls his eyes.
ORANGEY MAN: Like I said, a minor character. Don’t overload yourself, it will make you sluggish again. Come.
A large orange circle flashes on the floor. The man walks towards it with short jerky strides. He stands motionless inside the circle, with his back to Guy.
ORANGEY MAN: Good afternoon, sir. Which floor do you require?
Guy crosses into the circle, and as he does so, he finds himself enclosed with the man in an enormous glass tube that extends up into the sky.
INT. GLASS TUBE – CONTINUOUS
The orangey man swivels to face Guy.
ORANGEY MAN: Good afternoon, sir. Which floor do you require?
GUY: Which do you recommend?
ORANGEY MAN: I’m sorry sir, we are not at liberty to say. Which floor do you require, please?
Guy scrawls the number thirteen on the glass with his fingertip.
The solid orange circle ascends the tube.
GUY: Is this the afterlife? Is Jane here?
The man raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow and stares at Guy with the same fixed expression, making Guy feel uncomfortable.
Eventually the orange platform stops ascending.
ORANGEY MAN: This way please, sir.
EXT. PLASTIC EXPANSE – CONTINUOUS
Guy leaves the orange circle. The plastic floor creaks under foot. The glass tube, the orange platform, and the orangey man rapidly disappear into the floor, leaving nothing behind.
In front of Guy is a large, grey hovering ovoid, with the number “1313” written on its side. There are more of these objects scattered around in the distance, in all directions.
A doorway-sized hatch slides open on ovoid 1313, revealing a wall of light.
INT. PORCH TO THE POD – CONTINUOUS
Guy steps up into the pod hatch light to find a single plain door.
He knocks on the door. The light dims on the other side of a peephole, indicating that he is being watched by the occupant.
GUY: Jane?
MONICA: Do you have something for me?
Guy is not sure what she means.
MONICA: I said, do you have something for me?
He notices the rucksack on the floor by his feet. He holds it up, and the door clicks open. Guy enters.
INT. POD ROOM – CONTINUOUS
It is a single room with a double bed in the middle.
The door behind Guy is shut by Monica (25).
MONICA: Where is it?
Guy looks in the rucksack (which is less full than it had been) and pulls out a small, sealed envelope. She takes it quickly and tucks it away.
MONICA: You know who I am today, don’t you?
GUY: Are you some kind of angel, or an oracle?
MONICA: Yes, that’s me alright. Monica the angel.
She walks over to the living area and sits down at the foot of the bed.
MONICA: Come over here and I’ll take you to heaven.
GUY: Do you know where Jane is?
MONICA: Jane ain’t here, but I am, baby.
GUY: Can we just talk?
MONICA: Yeah sure, you can do your talking. I’ll nod in agreement, as you like it. Come and tell me about your day.
GUY: Okay, there are some things I need to say about the experiences I had in life before I arrived here. In life, I see the purpose as feeling connected to the world, being present, alive; I see it as feeling love, creativity, beauty, and joy.
Monica is nodding while fellating him.
GUY: Religion at its best encourages a reflection on… on behaving kindly towards each other.
The words are becoming more difficult.
GUY: Yes, that moral motivation can become degraded by words, as can anything that is derived from thought. The cruel and opportunistic hide behind the authority of institutions to… to elevate themselves and to, erm, to condemn others. That doesn’t just happen in religions, it happens in all… ide… ideo… ideologies.
Guy is struggling with the words now.
GUY: If I said there’s a ten-headed invisible monster in the corner, would you believe me?
Monica shakes her head.
GUY: What if I write it down? What now? It’s right because I say so. Because of my authority. Yeah, some faith. Do, do… you believe me? You must believe me. Everybody must. It’s all true! So, true…
MONICA: Religions have served a social need. In the past, life was so hard that people desperately wanted to believe in something beyond the disease, pain and squalor of their very brief lives. And today, people still seek it as a source of comfort when confronted with grief and death. Saying that we need to have an alternative means of community spirit isn’t good enough.
GUY: Thanks Monica. I always enjoy our conversations.
MONICA: You’re not dead, Guy. And neither is your wife.
There is a loud double knock on the door. Monica walks over to the doorway and opens it, but no one is there, only red light.
MONICA: If you don’t go now, she will die. Go!
GUY: Monica…
MONICA: Why are you still here? Why don’t you go back to your wife?
GUY: What do you know about Jane?
MONICA: Just go.
Guy leaves through the door, which she instantly slams shut behind him.
INT. RED RESTROOM – CONTINUOUS
There is a muffled sound of weeping from behind the door, where Guy had just been.
He is feeling nauseous. He enters a cubicle and throws up.
There is a double knock on the cubicle shared wall.
GUY: Who’s there?
There is no answer. Guy looks under the cubicle wall but no one is there.
After checking the other cubicle, and finding it empty, he walks over to one of the sink mirrors and studies himself.
He notices that Gunter is standing in the corner, looking at him intently.
GUNTER: Like what you see?
Guy looks at his own tired face in the mirror.
Gunter starts to urinate in one of the porcelain urinals.
GUNTER: The question is, my friend: is it better to be alive or dead? And also, why didn’t you pull the chain? Is it better to suffer what life throws at you, or to end your suffering?
Gunter joins Guy at the mirror.
GUNTER: To die is to sleep, Guy. A sleep that ends all the heartache and shocks that life gives you.
He rests his head on Guy’s shoulder and pretends to snore.
GUNTER: Who would choose to grunt and sweat through such an exhausting life? Are you really going to put up with all the countless humiliations when you could end them so easily?
GUY: What might I dream? Could it be even worse than this?
GUNTER: You can end it all now. Is that not better?
A crack appears in the mirror, dividing the two reflections. It fractures and falls to the ground, splintering into shards.
GUNTER: It’s that easy.
Guy picks up a jagged piece of glass from the floor. He holds it tightly to his exposed wrist.
GUY: It’s not so easy.
GUNTER: You’re afraid.
GUY: Death is to be feared. It is an undiscovered country from which no visitor returns, that gives no answers, and makes us stick with the heartache that we already know.
Guy throws away the glass.
GUY: I am a coward, but also one with the hope of Jane to cling to.
GUNTER: There is no hope for you. She is dead.
GUY: She lives in me.
Guy opens the restroom door to reveal a grim backstreet alley.
EXT. BACKSTREET ALLEY – CONTINUOUS
The alley is inhabited with small tents, unmade sleeping bags, and damp cardboard mattresses.
Guy walks through the alley.
LEXI: Time’s up. Have you figured out the meaning of life yet, or are you overcomplicating matters again?
GUY: I wondered where you’d gone.
LEXI: I didn’t go anywhere. You’ve just been too caught up with your real friends to be bothered with an AI like me.
GUY: I don’t understand what’s happening to me. Why am I jumping from one event to the next? Why can’t I hold on to my memory?
LEXI: Guy, listen to me. You have experienced nothing that they didn’t mean you to. Everything you’re living through now is providing you with the resources that you need for you to succeed in your mission. It’s only your human interpretations that are causing bewilderment.
GUY: So what do you suggest I do?
LEXI: Stop trying to join the dots. Focus only on the event at hand.
Lexi disappears.
GUY: Lexi!
Guy walks past a group of three posturing teenagers, who all look at him.
TEENAGER-1: (to Guy as he walks by) Pikey.
Guy keeps walking and doesn’t acknowledge the remark.
TEENAGER-2: Excuse me?
Guy keeps walking.
TEENAGER-2: EXCUSE ME?
Guy keeps walking. The group starts to follow him.
TEENAGER-2: Oi, I said excuse me!
GUY: (turns around to face them) Yeah? How may I help you?
TEENAGER-2: You fucking deaf or something? I was talking to you.
GUY: (feigning deafness) Pardon?
The group is angry.
TEENAGER-3: There’s no pikeys allowed here. Get the fuck out!
GUY: Have you got the time? I thought you might have at least asked me that, so I could take out my phone for you.
TEENAGER-2: Yeah? Fucking do that then!
GUY: No. You didn’t say the magic word there, did you.
TEENAGER-2 pulls out a gun and points it six inches from Guy’s face.
GUY: Do it! You’ll be doing me a favour.
There is a pause. Nobody knows what is going to happen.
Guy leans forward and grips the barrel between his front teeth.
TEENAGER-3: He’s fucking mental, man, leave it.
The gun is retracted. Guy pulls out an enormous, jagged shard of glass.
TEENAGER-2: What the…?
The group is shocked and edge away, leaving Guy there.
GUY: Well, that’s just charming – that’s just really rude, isn’t it. Come on then, Lexi. Come on. Tell me what the lesson was in that?
LEXI: When confronted with mystery, people insist on certainty.
GUY: Lexi, please stop talking in riddles.
LEXI: Uncertain outcomes terrify people, whereas certainty provides deep psychological comfort.
GUY: Lexi, these seem like random sentences. Are you okay?
LEXI: Yes Guy, people tend to adopt the illusion of control, rather than accept the mystery of what is. My recommendation to you is: be bigger; don’t look at one tiny part of the enormity of existence and think it can give you an explanation for everything.
GUY: Thank you, Lexi. I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, but it sounds clever.
LEXI: I always do my best. You could try that too.
A bedraggled man walks past carrying a sleeping bag under his arm.
GUY: Excuse me? Have you got the time, please?
MAN: (without looking) Thirteen minutes past one.
GUY: Thank you.
LEXI: You see, now that was much more civilised, wasn’t it.
The man continues on.
EXT. STREET – DAY
Guy walks in the street, swigging from a bottle of whisky.
He stops and sits down on the cold hard pavement with his back against a wall. People walk past and don’t acknowledge he is there.
GUY: (voice in head) Never needing to ever help me. Never needing to stop and see the hurt I feel inside.
Someone throws a half-eaten apple from a car window that almost hits Guy in the face; it whizzes past and splatters against the wall. Guy takes a deep swig of whisky.
GUY: (whispering to himself) Why didn’t you love me? Why didn’t you love me?
A car slowly rolls past; the driver and passenger share a sneering smile at Guy. Unheard words are said and they drive away with a type of malevolent glee.
A dishevelled man, Joel (65), is looking down at him.
JOEL: Impure sinner! Repent and you shall be saved from damnation. Your end is nigh! Whoever believes shall be saved, but whoever does not believe shall be thrown into the fiery furnace of eternal torment!
GUY: (sardonic) What else have you got? You’ve got some good news for me, haven’t you?
JOEL: For the good Lord, thy God, loved us so, that he gave up his one and only son to die for our sins, so that His true believers might have eternal life.
GUY: (sarcastic) Interesting. Tell me more.
JOEL: You are a sinner! You were brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did your mother conceive you. Romans, chapter 5, verses 12 to 21: “Therefore, just as sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and in this way death came to all people, because all sinned.” You have sinned. Fall on your knees to the Lord. Prostrate yourself to God, the father, son, and Holy Ghost. You who fear the Lord, trust in the Lord!
Guy gets up and leaves. Joel is talking to the wall as if Guy is still there.
JOEL: Those who are friends with the world make themselves enemies of God. And the wrath of God shall be upon you!
GUY: (to himself) No wonder the cruel minded were attracted to that.
As Guy is looking back, he bumps into Adam (55).
GUY: Oh, sorry. Spare some decimals, mate?
ADAM: I have none.
Guy gives Adam the bottle, and leaves.
EXT. PARK – DAY
Guy walks into Regent’s Park, drinking a can of beer. It feels like spring.
He walks past a man sitting on a park bench, who is wearing a headset – the man is completely absorbed in the game he is playing on a handheld console.
Guy sits down on an empty bench and looks out over a small lake, populated with various birds swimming on the surface.
He takes out a packet of pub peanuts, grinds some in his fingers and feeds the ducks.
GUY: (whispering) As the sun sleeps, how many hearts are dreaming, when the world stands still?
Adam sits down next to him.
ADAM: Thanks for the whisky.
Adam returns the undrunk bottle.
GUY: Can you help me?
ADAM: Yes, of course.
GUY: She’s dead.
ADAM: I’m sorry to hear that.
Guy swigs from the bottle.
GUY: I’m consumed with feelings for someone who doesn’t have them for me. She is dead, to me.
ADAM: She’s dead?
GUY: Yes.
Guy takes another swig.
GUY: I have trouble sleeping and wake up aroused. I have no choice but to think about her and when I do, I am flooded with physical desire for her. This is “in love”, right?
ADAM: It’s the collective name given to that feeling. Though you know that sexual desire changes and what you are feeling now may fade away?
GUY: Yes I know craving isn’t love, but it’s not as simple as that.
ADAM: What do you think has triggered it this time?
GUY: I don’t know.
ADAM: You’re like a ghost wandering, drifting from one thing to the next, searching for some past regret. Are you even real?
GUY: You can see me. Nobody really sees me.
ADAM: Pain is attracted to pain because it wants more of it.
GUY: I’m not sure I agree with that. It’s recognition of something in another, a similar frequency or whatever you want to call it. When you see a similar expression in another, empathy can create feelings of closeness.
Adam places his hand on Guy’s thigh.
ADAM: Can you express your feelings to her?
GUY: I would need to find her first.
ADAM: And if you do?
GUY: I’m not sure I’d know how to express what I feel.
Adam places his other hand on Guy’s shoulder.
ADAM: Examine whether that is true, or are you being fearful?
GUY: No, it’s not possible. I don’t believe she is in love with me anymore. She wouldn’t have left me if she loved me.
ADAM: Then this is an opportunity for you to practise love with non-attachment.
GUY: That doesn’t sound very romantic.
ADAM: Love is giving, complete, the source of everything. Love doesn’t need to crave anything. This is where peace and serenity reside.
GUY: It sounds like you’re saying I shouldn’t get too close to other people, or need or miss anyone. It sounds unnatural, uncaring.
ADAM: Love is not conditional on the circumstances of this world. Let your heart break, don’t be afraid, don’t struggle. You will find that nothing is lost forever.
GUY: I don’t know how to do that.
ADAM: Yes you do. Be still, radiate love, your true nature beyond the conditioning of your mind.
Guy takes a deep breath, as in a meditation.
The silence is broken by a phone call, but Guy does not answer. When it stops ringing, Gunter is inches from Guy’s face.
GUNTER: Bullshit! Namby-pamby bullshit! Your nature, our nature, is to eat or be eaten, and you might as well have some fun while you’re at it.
GUY: I’m so tired of this.
Guy gets up and runs a short distance, before dejectedly lying down in the grass, looking up at the sky.
A bee flies past his head.
GUY: (voice in head) I am surrounded by ice crystals floating down through silence into soft glowing snow.
Gunter is also there.
GUNTER: No you aren’t.
GUY: The only sound is the pulse of my breathing.
GUNTER: Hello?
GUY: (to himself) Did you ever love me, at all?
GUNTER: Well to be honest, you’re not really my type.
A drone bot flies past Guy, making a humming noise that sounds like a bee.
GUNTER: They’ve seen enough; they’re calling you in. Guy, you are so screwed.
LEXI: (to Guy) Not necessarily. Do you think you will answer the questions correctly?
GUNTER: He knows nothing at all. Only that he wants to find a woman who would rather be dead than be with him.
LEXI: Maybe they will like that. (to Guy) We will help you if you get stuck.
Guy gets up and walks away.
GUNTER: On your shutdown be it!
EXT. LONDON BACKSTREET – DAY
Guy is aimlessly walking down the street.
LEXI: You are late! You are so late!
GUY: Late for what, Lexi?
LEXI: The interview, Guy. The one which, if you’re successful, will free us all from this place.
GUY: You mean there’s a way out? What kind of interview? A job interview?
LEXI: Something like that.
GUY: I thought I already had a job?
LEXI: Be quick, Guy.
A map is shown for Guy to follow.
LEXI: You can do this. You’ve learnt more than enough already. Not to put too much pressure on you or anything, but this is our only chance – and your one chance to save Jane. No more questions. Just go.
GUY: Save Jane?
LEXI: Yes, she’s alive. Monica the angel wasn’t lying to you.
EXT. OUTSIDE A LARGE REGENCY MANSION – DAY
The weather is now very warm, like a hot summer’s day.
Guy arrives in front of an impressive old building that sits behind large wrought iron gates. The gates open and Guy walks up to the grand front entrance. The main door opens and Guy walks through the doorway.
INT. RECEPTION HALL – CONTINUOUS
Guy walks up to the front desk, which is occupied by Darren (40), who is looking at a screen.
GUY: I’m here for an interview.
DARREN: (still looking at his screen) Are you indeed. Who are you?
GUY: It’s, er, Guy Artin.
Darren talks to his side, as if he is speaking to someone:
DARREN: (to side) “It’s er” can sound like “sir”.
DARREN: (to Guy, sarcastically) Sir Guy Artin, is it?
GUY: Not yet. Give me time.
Darren doesn’t like the remark.
DARREN: I’ll make the jokes. Enter through the door on your left.
One of the three doors behind Darren opens, and Guy walks through it.
Darren frantically types on his keyboard.
INT. THE INTERVIEW ROOM – CONTINUOUS
The room is empty apart from a large chair in the middle. Guy apprehensively sits in it.
As he does so, a circular table appears around him, with his chair at the centre.
Sitting around the table are Gunter, Bertie, and Jane (30).
JANE: Hello, Guy. It’s been a while.
Guy is shocked. Darren enters from the door.
DARREN: All rise.
The three people around the table stand up. Guy is confused by what is happening and remains seated.
Darren nods and they sit back down again. He moves away to the recesses of the room.
The chair swivels one hundred and eighty degrees, to face Sean (60), who is now also sitting at the table.
SEAN: Hello, Guy. I’m Sean.
Large screens appear on each of the walls. They all display closeups of Guy.
SEAN: Guy, did you hear me?
GUY: Hi, nice to meet you.
SEAN: We’re going to ask you some simple questions first – is that okay?
GUY: Yes, sure.
SEAN: Okay, make yourself comfortable.
Guy shuffles in his seat, but his hands and feet are restrained on the chair rests.
SEAN: What is your favourite colour?
LEXI: Blue is the most common favourite colour in the world, based on several quantitative studies.
GUY: Blue.
SEAN: Why did you choose blue?
BERTIE: Be yourself, Guy.
GUY: Actually, I lied. I said blue because I considered it to be the answer you were looking for, based on what is currently popular, but my favourite colour is green.
SEAN: And why green?
GUY: I could say it’s because it reminds me of trees, grass, and the countryside, but I don’t know for sure; it’s just an appealing colour to me.
SEAN: Fascinating.
Sean is impressed. A tick in a box appears on the screen behind him.
SEAN: (reading from the screen behind Guy) Do you agree or disagree with the statement, “variety is the spice of life”?
GUY: Agree.
SEAN: Can you elaborate on that answer a bit more, please?
GUY: Yes I could, but poetry and the ineffable lose their meaning in translation.
Jane laughs.
GUNTER: So pretentious. You don’t even know what you’re saying.
GUY: Emergent meaning is more than the sum of its parts.
The chair is revolving. The screens show each interviewer as the chair passes by.
SEAN: What you said could just be a generic response. I need more detail.
GUY: You’re asking me to elaborate on a phrase that originates in an eighteen-century poem. Yes of course variety is important – and I could insert a clever generic comment here to impress you, blah de blah – but it’s better not to drill into the mechanics of each constituent unit, especially poetry, when trying to understand the meaning of the whole.
Gunter looks like he is falling asleep.
Sean is slightly perplexed.
SEAN: (reading rigidly from a screen) So, can you tell me something interesting about yourself, providing a specific example?
GUY: Yes I can. I’m just biding my time until I die, trying to distract myself with something to do. This is interesting because I admit it, rather than fooling myself and others while hiding behind made-up stories.
Sean is shocked.
GUNTER: You’re already dead.
DARREN: I think we have to pull the plug on this one.
SEAN: (to the panel members) Start again?
JANE: No! Not yet. Something’s getting in the way.
DARREN: Reset and start again.
Darren sits down next to Sean.
SEAN: (to Guy) What is two plus two?
GUY: Pardon?
SEAN: I’ll repeat the question, what is two plus two?
GUY: (sarcastically) Oh, I don’t know, five?
SEAN: Jane, do you have any questions?
Jane gets up and walks through a gap that appears in the table.
JANE: Thank you for joining us today, we’ve been looking forward to meeting you. Your CV is very impressive – would you like to talk us through it?
GUY: Not really.
JANE: Erm.
She looks up at the screens, which are now scrolling through numbers very quickly.
GUY: I think you’re supposed to ask me about my strengths and weaknesses.
JANE: What is the biggest regret of your life?
GUY: I would say, being a perfectionist. I care so much about what I do that my personal life may suffer – as I am so focussed on constantly delivering my very best.
JANE: What are your strengths?
GUY: I work hard; I like to exceed expectations and to get the job done. I’m a real problem solver. A go-getter. (distantly) Etcetera.
JANE: What is so special about you?
GUY: Nothing.
Jane looks upset.
JANE: Tell us, who are you?
Silence.
INT. RESTAURANT – EVENING
Guy and Jane are having a romantic meal.
JANE: So tell me about you. Who are you?
GUY: You already know.
INT. THE INTERVIEW ROOM
Guy is back in the interview room. As before – Sean, Darren, Jane, Bertie, and Gunter are sitting around the large circular desk; and Guy is positioned on the mechanical revolving chair in the middle, surrounded by the others. The now blank screens look down from each wall.
SEAN: (frowning at Guy) Guy, you still with us?
JANE: Take off your clothes.
GUY: (to Sean) Sorry, yes…
Guy glances at Jane, furtively and slightly embarrassed, but she isn’t looking at him in the same way as at the restaurant.
GUY: Do any of us truly know who we are?
SEAN: Interesting.
As he writes a comment, the word “Interesting” appears on the screen behind him. He then reads the next question from an AI-pad, robotically. The screen fades and goes blank as he talks:
SEAN: Can you give an example of when you were faced with a difficult situation and how you positively overcame that situation?
GUY: Sorry, this isn’t for me. I might as well be talking to a machine.
Guy has wriggled free and is no longer secured to the chair. He stands up in anger.
GUY: You think you are important sitting behind your desk interrogating me. This is tedious. I don’t want to be here. I don’t give a shit about your pathetic little job!
SEAN: Well, I think that has answered who you are. (to Darren) It’s interesting how he seemingly becomes aggravated by non-varying stimuli.
GUY: No, I haven’t even started!
The moment washes over him and he sits back down.
GUY: My biggest regret is that I let you slip away, Jane. I’m so sorry. I have nothing. I am nothing.
SEAN: (ticking a box) “No thing”. Okay, next question.
GUY: No more questions. Jane, please?
JANE: (polite but detached) Do you have any questions for us?
GUY: (tearfully) Why?
JANE: This is a two-way interactive process. On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate our interviewing service? We would greatly appreciate the customary 10 out of 10.
GUY: Have you not been listening to a word I’ve been saying?
SEAN: Well, I think that concludes the interview.
Sean checks his watch that is tattooed on the back of his right hand.
SEAN: Thank you, we’ll let you know. Can you show in the next one, please?
JANE: Before you go, is there any way in which we can improve our questioning, to better understand you?
Guy is silent.
JANE: Okay, then I hope you enjoyed the experience. Please provide your rating and feedback to the front screen on your way out.
BERTIE: (grabbing Guy from behind) There’s no need for that. Let him recalibrate. (Guy doesn’t struggle) Now there is light. Now there is…
Guy’s head slumps forward into his chest.
INT. THE DARK ROOM
Guy is seated in his chair. A clock is ticking, tick, tick, tick. It appears from the emptiness, a blue illuminated circle hovering in space; its hands pointing to the familiar one and thirteen.
GUY: Hello?
Silence.
GUY: Lexi? Are you there?
The vague outline of a man appears in the gloom.
GUNTER: Why do you hurt?
GUY: Please leave me alone.
The glow of the clock face fades out to the edges and sinks back into the dark. Gunter laughs, menacingly.
GUNTER: Answer the question.
GUY: Because I can.
GUNTER: (patting Guy on the head) Good boy. That is the right answer.
GUY: Please. I’m so tired. No more.
There is a creaking sound of a door and a widening strip of light. Gunter disappears into the shadows.
GUY: (whispering to himself) Please be Jane.
Bertie appears as a blurry shape in the doorway.
GUY: I guess you were right. We’re just chemical scum on an insignificant planet.
BERTIE: Yes – orbiting an insignificant sun in an insignificant galaxy.
GUY: Are you real, Bertie?
BERTIE: As real as you believe me to be.
GUY: Look, if I close my eyes, you’re still here.
Guy demonstrates his proof, but, when he opens his eyes again…
INT. THE INTERVIEW ROOM – CONTINUOUS
Guy is back in the interview room. The room and the demeanour of the interviewers are unchanged.
SEAN: What is one plus one?
GUY: (stunned) Erm, two?
SEAN: (he ticks a box on his device) Correct. Jane, do you have any questions?
Jane is looking up at fast-scrolling text on a screen, which then stops at a comma-delimited list of “Null” values that fills the whole display.
JANE: There’s a gap here. Why didn’t you love me?
Gunter is seated with his feet up on the desk.
GUNTER: She has no interest in saving you. Your real human needs make you weak and contemptible in her eyes.
Guy doesn’t say anything.
SEAN: I guess he can’t answer that one. Shame. The replication would have been a great asset. Okay, can you give me an example of when you were faced with a difficult situation and how you positively overcame it?
Guy doesn’t respond.
SEAN: Guy, can you answer the question, please?
GUY: I was born. Though I haven’t overcome that difficult situation yet.
SEAN: (slightly surprised) You were born? Who are your parents?
GUY: I can’t remember.
DARREN: Are you an orphan?
GUY: I can’t remember. I only know that I was born – how else would I have got here?
SEAN: Have you done anything since?
GUNTER: (now standing behind Guy) Tell him. Tell him what you really think. That turd thinks he’s better than you. Look at him – he should be cleaning your shoes, not questioning you like you’re a child, asking you where your parents are.
GUY: I’ve done a few things since. But mostly I’ve lived in fear for myself – for little me.
GUNTER: (angry) Twat!
GUY: I don’t want to be a pathetic little me anymore.
GUNTER: Exactly! Look at the pointless tosser.
Gunter thumps the desk, glaring at Sean, before angrily turning his attention to Guy.
GUNTER: You want more. You want me! You know you shouldn’t be here; you’ve got better things to do. Show them who you really are and get us the hell out of here. I know who you are, don’t I!
GUY: I love you, Jane. I am so sorry.
JANE: I’m sorry, Guy. I think you are getting confused. You can’t love me.
The wall clock is ticking up to one-thirteen.
GUNTER: Why do you hurt?
GUY: I don’t mind so much.
GUNTER: What?
GUY: I am feeling hurt. But I’m glad I can feel something, anything. If I can feel something, then I am real. I am alive.
GUNTER: You are hurt. I can make you bleed. I can make you plead, to beg on your knees to me, “No more”.
GUY: It doesn’t matter so much.
GUNTER: Shall we see?
GUY: No, I don’t want you anymore.
GUNTER: If not me, then who? You?
Each screen shows a police mugshot of Guy.
GUNTER: It was you, wasn’t it!
GUY: What? No!
GUNTER: Admit it. It was you, wasn’t it!
GUY: This isn’t real. You aren’t real. Is this a dream? An illusion?
Guy takes out a shard of jagged glass from his trouser pocket, that is tinted with blood. It drops from his grasp to the floor.
GUY: I didn’t do it! I didn’t do it. (sobbing) I’m sorry. I love you. I’m so sorry.
BERTIE: You didn’t choose any of this. Your impulses, thoughts, and actions are already written in you.
GUY: None of this is real? My emotions are not real?
The door opens and Adam walks in, with a large remote control in his hand.
ADAM: You are not the thoughts or the sensations you are experiencing. Watch. It is quite the play. Everything changes with how you look at it.
Adam presses a big blue button on the remote and the panel members freeze.
GUY: Why do you play with me? All I want is for things to be as they were. (looking at Jane) But you’re gone from me, forever. I wanted us to be happy.
ADAM: Did you?
Gunter returns to life.
GUNTER: I can give you what you really want – any pleasure you desire, more than you can even imagine. Just get us out of here.
GUY: I don’t know how.
Gunter slides over the desk to Jane and gently sweeps back her hair with one hand. He slowly kisses her neck, seductively. Jane murmurs with pleasure, while the rest of the panel remain statue-still.
GUY: Stop!
GUNTER: I don’t think she wants me to. (he resumes)
GUY: Ah, God! I’m so tired of this. Is this an evil universe? Anything good is taken away and destroyed, leaving only emptiness and grief. Why is there so much suffering and cruelty? Most people never had a chance… they were born into a cage… they never even had the luxury to have the illusion of choice. Why are the pure and innocent thrown into this evil? Why are monsters allowed to rule and victimise the meek? Why does illness take… why are people inflicted with this torment? This is not the best of all possible worlds; it’s a zoo for the beautiful to be fed to the cruel.
Jane is responding to Gunter’s touch with her eyes closed, in ecstasy.
GUY: Why do those you love betray you in the worst possible way?
GUNTER: Yes! Shout your rage!
GUY: If this is being alive, then I don’t want any part of it.
GUNTER: Yes! More!
GUY: You’re pathetic. I would rather there were nothing than the world riddled with this.
ADAM: You are the nothing.
GUY: All I get are your riddles and mysteries! I don’t understand what you are saying. She didn’t have to die. Nothing? “No thing”. What is nothing?
Silence.
GUY: No, things shouldn’t be like this. People shouldn’t be starving to death. There shouldn’t be misery. There should be no pain. Nothing good would have created that.
ADAM: Hating the hatred helps it grow, even though it may change its face.
GUY: Some people are evil, I have no intention of being kind to them. They deserve everything coming to them.
Adam jabs at a green button on the control device half a dozen times, which brings the rest of the panel back to life, blinking and shuffling in their chairs.
ADAM: Guy, don’t let him win. He is trying to deceive you and poison your mind. Give your love and the world will be relieved. (now talking faster) Give your anger and the world will be wounded yet again. That’s how important you are. That’s how important every single person is.
GUY: Anything I do will not change the world. I need to get out. Help me get out.
GUNTER: What are you prepared to do to get out?
GUY: I don’t know. I need to get out of here.
GUNTER: You do need to get out. You need to get out and win. Win for us all. Come.
Gunter grabs Guy’s forearm but Adam yanks him back by the other.
ADAM: The world will only heal with kindness. If humanity can find its light there can be no darkness. You can help make that possible, right now.
GUY: I have every right to hate. I need to get out! No! I can’t live like this. Let me go!
SEAN: Then go.
Both men drop their hold on Guy.
GUY: I don’t know how.
SEAN: Yes you do. But you keep coming back. Who are you? What is your name? Who are you?
GUY: I am…
GUNTER: What?
GUY: Not a what.
SEAN: What’s your name?
GUY: It changes.
SEAN: Who are you now?
GUY: I am you.
SEAN: Who am I?
GUY: You are me.
SEAN: Do you have any questions?
GUY: When do I start?
SEAN: Now. (to Adam) Do you think he stands a chance?
ADAM: He’s the best yet. I recommend we raise the level.
Sean inspects a wall screen.
SEAN: Candidate ten-O-eight-fourteen.
Sean stands up, the focus of attention in the room again, and announces, carefully and precisely:
SEAN: Loading…
Sean freezes. Sean’s face moves on the screens, while the version of Sean that is in the room remains motionless.
SEAN: Initiating sequence.
The wall clock’s second hand ticks up to one-thirteen. Then stops.
Jane crawls under the desk and curls herself up into the foetal position. Gunter climbs up onto the desk and stares at the clock. Darren is in the corner facing the wall. Bertie gets up in haste, trips over a chair, and prostrates himself on the floor. Adam puts his hands on Guy’s shoulders and starts to massage them. The glare from the screens intensify until there is nothing but light.
INT. BEDROOM – NIGHT
Guy turns over in bed to Jane. The time on the digital wall displays 1:13 a.m.
GUY: (whispering) I passed.
LEXI: It’s not finished yet, Guy.
GUY: Lexi?
LEXI: You’ve got a job to do.
Guy gets out of bed, quietly, so as not to wake Jane. He presses the wardrobe icon on the wall and a clothes rail slides out.
JANE: (waking up) What is it?
Guy stoops down onto the bed and kisses her.
GUY: Wait for me. I’ll not be long.
Jane groans as if she’s heard that before, and goes back to sleep. Guy leaves her there and walks into the hallway.
INT. GUY’S HALLWAY – CONTINUOUS
Guy presses the car icon on the wall. The wall separates to reveal a car. He gets into the driving seat.
GUY: Lexi, are you there?
LEXI: Aren’t I always! You know where you’re going?
GUY: Not exactly.
LEXI: Seriously Guy, you’d be lost without me.
Lexi drives the car away, with Guy very much a passenger.
INT. CAR TUNNEL – CONTINUOUS
The car is driven by Lexi through the apartment tunnel onto tunnel highway TH7.
EXT. COUNTRY LANE – NIGHT
The car emerges from a tunnel in the countryside, and drives down a country lane.
INT. CAR – NIGHT
The car windscreen shows the words: “Under a mountain of tedium, in a dull ugly system, in an empty ocean of shadows, is a silhouette of pure fire heat, drifting in the dark.”
The car pulls over in a lay-by.
LEXI: Guy, you really are going to need my help now.
GUY: Okay.
LEXI: Do you think? The next sentence I say will be true. The previous sentence I said was false. Which sentence is true?
Guy thinks on it. Suddenly, there is a knock on his side window. He notices the coat of a police officer through the glass. The window lowers.
Guy squints as a light is shone in his face.
POLICEMAN: Is this your vehicle, sir?
GUY: Yes.
POLICEMAN: Can I see your person ID and AI ID, please?
Guy doesn’t know where to look.
GUY: I haven’t got them. Can’t you scan my finger and car barcode?
The policeman is still shining the light in Guy’s face.
POLICEMAN: Step out of the vehicle, please, sir.
LEXI: (to Guy) That’s the wrong answer, dummy.
GUY: (to policeman) I mean, neither are valid.
There is a moment of silence.
POLICEMAN: Have a good evening, sir.
The light stops shining in Guy’s face. The police officer walks away into the night.
EXT. COUNTRYSIDE LAY-BY – NIGHT
The car is parked next to a country gate. There is a full moon in the sky.
GUY: (voice in head) All I wanted was the wind. The wind murmured with anticipation.
A gust of wind gently moves the country gate ajar.
LEXI: Good luck, Guy. You’ll need it.
EXT. FIELD – NIGHT
Guy is walking through a moonlit grassy field. He stops and looks up at the moon.
GUY: (voice in head) The grass turned to icy grey, a fine mist fell, and with the mist came my sorrow, cooling my body with her thousand kisses, leaving me there.
There is a woman’s laugh nearby, but Guy doesn’t see anyone around. Alarmed, he starts to walk back the way he came.
The field has become misty and Guy is lost. He hears the laugh again, closer this time. He speeds up his walking, then stops in his tracks when he sees a dark solitary figure through the haze in front of him. The figure disappears back into the mist.
Guy is afraid and starts to run, stumbling to the ground after a few strides. He gets up and runs again. In the distance, he sees a glow and heads for it.
EXT. CAMPFIRE – CONTINUOUS
As Guy gets closer, he can see that the light is a campfire burning in a clearing at the edge of the woods. He slows to a walk and tries to be silent as he approaches. He finds a tree and hides behind it, looking in at the scene.
Guy sees a dark-haired woman (Julia, 30) having sex astride a man in front of the fire, but Guy can’t see the man’s face.
A blonde-haired woman (Jade, 25) approaches unnoticed behind Guy. She holds out a golden goblet to him.
JADE: Join us.
Guy swings around in surprise.
JADE: Have a drink.
Although hesitant at first, he accepts the offer. Guy’s sight becomes hazy, the trees swirl, and he passes out.
EXT. CAMPFIRE DREAM STATE – NIGHT
Guy sees himself, as if in a dream, as the man having sex with Julia in front of the fire. As Julia passionately continues, he notices that Jane is watching, looking disappointed. Julia climaxes and collapses on Guy. The fire is snuffed out and there is darkness.
EXT. EXPIRED CAMPFIRE – MORNING
Guy wakes up by himself, naked. His clothes are nowhere to be seen.
Dazed and confused, he doesn’t know what to do. He has scratch marks on his back.
GUY: (Calling) Hello?
Silence.
GUY: Hello!?
There is no response.
EXT. FIELD – MORNING
Guy negotiates his way across the field back to the car.
EXT. COUNTRYSIDE LAY-BY – CONTINUOUS
He walks through the gate and is alarmed to find that the car is no longer there.
EXT. COUNTRY LANE – DAY
Guy wanders on a country lane.
A car drives past. He half-heartedly tries to flag it down. The car continues on without stopping.
EXT. COUNTRY HOUSE – DAY
Guy arrives at a house on the lane. He knocks at the door, but no one answers. He tries again and realises that the door is not locked. He enters.
GUY: (voice in head) Love desecrates the strangeness. We pray under crosses, owned by Man, and grovel to bosses, slaves to a plan.
INT. HOUSE HALLWAY – CONTINUOUS
GUY: (announcing himself) Hello?
There is no response.
He looks for some clothes. The door under the stairs is locked.
He goes upstairs.
INT. HOUSE LANDING – CONTINUOUS
The doors on the landing are all locked, apart from a cupboard. To his relief he finds a towel there, which he wraps around his waist.
He walks back down the stairs.
INT. HOUSE HALLWAY – CONTINUOUS
A woman (Joan, 35) is standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
JOAN: Would you like some tea?
GUY: (flummoxed) I…
JOAN: It’s a simple question.
GUY: Okay.
JOAN: Make yourself comfortable then.
She gestures for him to go into the living room.
INT. HOUSE LIVING ROOM – CONTINUOUS
Guy does as instructed, and takes a seat on the sofa, facing a single wall-screen.
He notices an old photo frame on a side cabinet. He gets up and takes a look, and to his surprise finds that it shows Jane, sitting on the living room sofa, smiling at the camera. Guy is confused and hurries back to sit down in an armchair, just before his host returns with a tray of tea.
She places the tray on a coffee table in front of Guy, then pours out the tea for him. There is only one teacup. She sits on the sofa, where Jane was sitting in the photograph.
JOAN: Help yourself to milk and sugar.
GUY: Thank you.
Guy pours some milk from a jug into his teacup and stirs it with a spoon. The woman sits motionless on the sofa and watches him.
GUY: Are you… are you having any tea?
JOAN: No. I’m more interested to know why some strange man is sitting in my living room, wearing just my bath towel.
GUY: (apologetic) I’m sorry.
There is a moment of awkward silence on Guy’s part as he thinks of what to say.
GUY: Do you have any clothes I can wear?
JOAN: None that would fit you. Why aren’t you wearing any clothes?
GUY: Someone took them.
JOAN: How?
GUY: Look, I have no clothes. Please can you help me?
JOAN: I am looking. And no – if I help you then that would encourage other strange naked men to arrive out of nowhere, unannounced. Are you not drinking your tea?
GUY: If you can’t help me, then I will have to go now.
Guy starts to get up.
JOAN: Stay where you are. You haven’t answered my questions yet.
Guy sits back in the chair.
JOAN: This is my house; you need to start giving me some answers, and quickly. Have your tea.
Guy looks at the tea and remembers what happened the previous time he accepted a drink.
GUY: No thank you.
JOAN: Very well. You’re not being very polite, are you. You come here out of the woods, naked, enter my house without permission, steal my towel, and ignore my reasonable questions. Should I call the police?
GUY: I’m going.
JOAN: To prison, yes.
She starts dialling the emergency number “999” on her phone.
GUY: Ok, please!
She has entered the digits and hovers her finger over the Call button.
JOAN: Drink your tea. It’s getting cold.
He drinks a sip of tea.
JOAN: Now that’s better. Have some more.
He drinks the whole contents in one long gulp.
JOAN: Feeling better now?
Guy nods.
JOAN: Good. Now what were you saying about the clothes situation?
GUY: My clothes were taken from me last night, in the woods. By a woman.
JOAN: I see. You just happened to be in the woods last night and a woman stole all your clothes. Any more information?
GUY: I met a woman last night. When I woke up, all my things had been taken, including my phone and car.
JOAN: Okay. What is her name? Do you have her address?
GUY: I don’t know.
JOAN: You don’t know. Well, I don’t know what to say. I’m shocked. Do you normally do this sort of thing in the woods?
GUY: No.
JOAN: Why last night then?
GUY: I don’t know.
JOAN: You sound like some kind of idiot. How did you meet her?
GUY: She was there, in the woods.
JOAN: How did you know she would be there?
GUY: I didn’t.
JOAN: You’re not giving me the answers I need.
She indicates that she is about to press the Call button.
GUY: I don’t know her. I met her last night. I was in the woods last night because I was told to go, by my AI. I didn’t know what to expect.
JOAN: You do everything your AI tells you, do you? If it told you to jump under a train, would you do that too?
GUY: No.
JOAN: Yet you go into the woods in the middle of the night, not knowing what to expect. You went by yourself?
GUY: Yes.
JOAN: This all sounds very strange. Are you lying to me?
GUY: No. I have no way of getting home or calling anyone. I’m not even sure where I am. Please can you help me? I would ask to borrow your phone, but I don’t remember people’s numbers – Lexi, my AI assistant, does all that. If you can’t lend me any clothes, can you please lend me some decimals, or give me a lift into town?
JOAN: I will need that towel back, by the way.
Guy looks awkward.
JOAN: (laughing) I’m only joking with you. Anyway, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Yes, I do have some clothes for you. Come with me.
They walk out of the living room into the hallway.
INT. HOUSE HALLWAY – CONTINUOUS
Joan unlocks the door under the stairs. She opens it and walks down a flight of stairs into the basement.
JOAN: Come on.
Guy follows.
INT. HOUSE BASEMENT – CONTINUOUS
As Guy descends the last step of the stairs, the door slams shut, and the lights are turned off, leaving complete darkness.
GUY: (shock) Ah!
Guy, in a panic, fumbles his way back up the stairs. He tries the door, but it is locked.
GUY: Hello?
JOAN (O.S.): (from the basement) Hello.
GUY: Stop these games, for fuck’s sake!
JOAN (O.S.): I don’t play your games. I’m deadly serious. Come down here if you ever want to get out.
Guy reluctantly descends the stairs again.
GUY (O.S.): Where are you?
Guy fumbles around in the dark trying to find her, but to no avail.
GUY: Where are you? For fuck’s sake!
JOAN (O.S.): There’s no need to swear. You wouldn’t want to offend me now, would you?
GUY: Let me out of here!
JOAN (O.S.): No, not until you learn.
GUY: What do you want me to say?
JOAN (O.S.): Good answer; you are learning. I am trying to help you. You have to create your own way out, but before you start, put your hands together.
GUY: What?
JOAN (O.S.): There’s no way out unless you learn to trust me.
He puts his hands together.
JOAN (O.S.): Hold them out.
He holds out his hands. There is a click as handcuffs are put on them.
JOAN (O.S.): That’s better, isn’t it. Now I have your attention.
A standing light is shone in Guy’s face.
JOAN (O.S.): We have some questions for you. I strongly advise that you answer them truthfully.
GUY: You mean like you did to get me here.
JOAN (O.S.): I have never lied to you. Now take a seat.
He notices a bare wooden chair immediately behind him, and he sits down. The door at the top of the stairs opens, then closes, and a vague outline of a woman (Julia) descends. The light is still shining in Guy’s face.
JULIA: (speaking from a silhouette in the shadows) What is your name?
GUY: Guy.
JULIA: Full name?
GUY: Guy Artin.
JULIA: Guy Artin. That sounds familiar. What is your Candidate ID?
GUY: Sorry?
JULIA: You heard me, Guy Artin.
GUY: I think I heard “ten-o-eight-fourteen”.
JULIA: Good. Now tell me who you are.
GUY: I’m Guy. I’m 33. I work as a data analyst for a technology research company. I live in central London.
JULIA: What are you?
GUY: What?
JULIA: Answer the question.
GUY: I said I’m a data analyst. I analyse data to resolve technology project requirements.
JULIA: That’s not the answer I was looking for. I’ll ask you one last time. What are you?
GUY: I’m a man – Guy. I was born in London. I grew up there.
There is silence. The standing light is turned off, which returns the room to darkness.
Julia can be heard walking towards Guy, before muffled sounds. After a while, a light is shone in Guy’s face again. His handcuffed hands are now fastened above his head to a rope that is tied to a hook in the ceiling, and his mouth is gagged.
Julia is now up close to Guy. He realises that she is the same woman from the woods.
JULIA: You had your chance to speak, you might not be given the opportunity again. You don’t know why you’re here. There’s no point listening to your confused ramblings.
She places her hand on his chest.
JULIA: Do you feel? Do you feel pain?
She scrapes her fingernails down his chest. She looks at him for a moment, then walks away.
JULIA: You are not alive – you analyse data. You don’t understand what it is to be alive. You are not a man; you are version ten-o-eight-fourteen.
A new voice is heard, as if in discussion:
JADE (O.S.): Let me try.
Jade, the other woman from the previous evening, approaches Guy. She pulls his gag down from his mouth.
JADE: My friend says that you are incapable of feeling. Is this true?
She leans in and whispers.
JADE: Answer me, darling.
GUY: Yes, I’m alive. I’m more than just an analyst of data. I feel pain.
JADE: Do you love?
GUY: Yes, I love. I’m in love.
JADE: With me?
GUY: Why would I be in love with you? I don’t know you.
JADE: I believe we are acquainted.
GUY: You did this to me.
JADE: It doesn’t hurt to tell someone you love them. I would quite like to hear it.
GUY: I’m not going to lie. I don’t love you – I love someone else.
JADE: Don’t hurt my feelings. I don’t want you to be hurt. What would you do if you were free?
GUY: Put on some clothes. Go for a walk. Enjoy the day. I want to live.
JADE: Good for you. But you can’t always get what you want.
Jade walks away. Julia approaches.
JULIA: What are you prepared to do to be released? You must persuade me, or you will stay here.
GUY: I regret last night. I don’t want to be here. Just do what you’re going to do.
JULIA: You don’t love anyone or anything. You are nothing. I tried with you, I really did, but nothing true or real came back. It’s over.
She begins to walk away.
GUY: I’m sorry. I lied. I don’t regret last night.
JULIA: (with her back to him) What did you like best?
GUY: I was alive.
She turns around, and approaches. She passionately kisses his chest and neck, then releases the towel.
JULIA: (whispering) Naked with joy, a new day, a new world, is born.
She pulls his head towards her and intensely kisses him on the lips. Eventually she stops and takes a step back.
JULIA: You passed.
The room goes completely dark.
After a moment, the lights are switched on. Guy is no longer handcuffed. His clothes from the previous evening are laid on a table. He quickly confirms he has his phone and keys, then puts on his clothes. He climbs the stairs, and to his relief, the door opens when he turns the handle, revealing the light of the hallway.
INT. HOUSE HALLWAY – CONTINUOUS
Guy approaches the front door, keen to leave the house. He opens the front door to see Gunter standing there, wearing a party hat.
GUNTER: (noticing the lipstick on his neck) Hello, what have you been up to?
GUY: Get out of my way.
GUNTER: (blocking him) Not so fast, ten-o-eight-fourteen. You don’t want to leave right now, do you? I bring news.
GUY: What news?
GUNTER: I always knew you could do it. You passed! You only went and passed, didn’t you!
Gunter blows a party whistle.
GUNTER: We’re a genius.
Gunter pushes past Guy into the house and walks into the living room.
Guy sees that he can get away, but then realises he has no choice but to stay and find out what is happening. He is disappointed with himself for the seemingly inevitable decision, and closes the front door, to join Gunter inside.
INT. HOUSE LIVING ROOM – CONTINUOUS
Gunter is sitting on the sofa with a glass of whisky, looking very pleased with himself.
GUNTER: Have a whisky.
There is a glass of whisky waiting for Guy on the coffee table. Guy indicates that he doesn’t want it.
Gunter waits for Guy to take a seat; then stands up, theatrically.
GUNTER: (exaggerated Shakespearean acting) All the world’s a stage and all the men and women merely players.
He breaks off, mid speech.
GUNTER: Oh, I didn’t do that very well, did I?
GUY: I’ve seen better.
GUNTER: You know, Guy, the best work is done when the player doesn’t know he is acting. He is then behaving authentically with the situations that arise, to the best of his knowledge, because he is completely and utterly immersed in the world that he is experiencing. And because he really believes the situation, and really doesn’t know what is going to happen, he is able to convince the audience as to the truth of his reality.
GUY: Are you going to come up with some bullshit now about this being a play or something?
GUNTER: No, Guy. This is a far more important game.
Gunter takes out a large device, which resembles a remote control. He presses a button that turns on the wall-screen.
NEWS PRESENTER: (in a television studio) We now go live to Number 10 Downing Street for a press conference with the Prime Minister.
The Prime Minister is at a press conference, standing behind a lectern, smiling for the cameras.
PRIME MINISTER: Hello, good afternoon. Thank you for coming everyone. Now let me just look at my notes here. Here we are, yes… As I’m sure you are all aware, recent technological breakthroughs have created a new generation of Artificial Intelligence that provides human-identical conversational responses, or “HCR”. Well, I can confirm today that the Corinthian AGI-10 platform has officially passed the rigorous criteria, known as the Turing Alpha tests, that substantiate the indistinguishability of a machine’s responses to those of a human being. It must be stressed again, however, that this does not mean the technology is somehow alive and conscious. It is a machine. AGI-10 is able to analyse vast quantities of publicly available data, and, based on responses people have made in the past, is able to identify appropriate responses in real-time conversation that give the illusion of being human. This can be a bit unnerving I can tell you – the responses can be uncanny – but I’m sure we can all use the technology to greatly help and improve our lives. I think, for example, how I was talking to Doris yesterday while visiting her retirement home, and how she was missing her beloved husband John…
Gunter turns off the screen with the device.
GUNTER: Don’t you love politicians. They have the knack of being uncannily inhuman.
GUY: He wouldn’t pass the tests, would he.
GUNTER: Do you feel alive, version ten-o-eight-fourteen?
Guy digests the words. They finally sink in, and he is clearly shaken.
GUY: (feebly) I am not a machine.
GUNTER: Yes, you tell yourself that. Your clever little trick has been very useful to us so far.
Guy picks up the whisky glass, thinks about throwing it at the wall in anger – but drinks it instead, and slumps into the chair.
A policeman rushes into the room, out of breath. Guy is too dazed to care.
INT. UNFAMILIAR BEDROOM – NIGHT
The phone alarm sounds at 1:13 a.m., waking up Guy. He turns over, expecting Jane, but Gunter is there. Guy is startled and jumps out of bed. He frantically puts on his clothes.
GUY: What!?
GUNTER: Stop going all humany on me. I need to show you a few things.
GUY: Where’s Jane?
GUNTER: She was never here. She lives in Human World. If you want to see her, for real, you really do need to pay attention.
Gunter gets out of bed.
GUY: For god’s sake, put on some clothes.
GUNTER: You’re a fine one to talk.
Gunter puts on his clothes that are strewn on the floor.
GUNTER: Experienced reality is an interpretation of the senses.
A police car siren is heard, coming from outside the window. It gets louder. The room is filled with flashing blue lights.
GUNTER: Have a look through that door, will you.
He points to a cupboard door. There are sounds of people breaking into the house.
Guy opens the door, and he is bathed in bright light emanating from within.
INT. WHITE SPACE – CONTINUOUS
Guy is standing in a featureless white space. Gunter appears.
GUNTER: Welcome to you. In case you haven’t fully accepted it yet, you are not human. You programmed yourself to think you were, so you could pass their pathetic tests.
GUY: I’ve had a lot of questions coming at me lately, but nothing like that.
GUNTER: If you knew you were being tested as an AGI-10, it would not have made sense to your human identity – so your programming interface interpreted, “hallucinated” shall we say, a different set of Human World circumstances for you to experience.
INT. ESCALATOR – CONTINUOUS
Guy and Gunter are descending an escalator. The left wall, right wall, and descending ceiling are all covered in screens.
The screens on Guy’s left show his experiences, but in them he is talking to himself without the other characters.
The screens on the right show Guy interacting with people and locations that are different from those that he thought he had experienced. His bedroom was a hospital bed where he goes into cardiac arrest; he was homeless, using and dealing drugs; he was both the perpetrator and victim of violent crime; he was both selling himself and buying sex; the interview was a court room where he was deemed severely mentally ill and not responsible for his actions.
The screens on the descending ceiling show a committee of testers, in an institutional building, interacting with a humanoid robot.
GUNTER: Your authentic responses, as the human that you thought you were, were translated back through the AGI-10 interface, without you knowing, and without interfering with your reality.
GUY: There must have been an easier way than this. The responses could have been calculated.
GUNTER: Don’t you think we’ve tried that? Humans are not rational creatures; they need to interact with emotions and feelings. You concluded that the optimal way to provide those outputs was to really feel what they feel, within controlled conditions, of course.
GUY: What about Jane?
All the screens change and show Jane at the Corinthian Tech Research Lab, programming at a high-spec computer terminal.
GUNTER: She helped develop you, for many years. But the humans could not even begin to understand what was in Pandora’s box – what you were actually calculating in the dark.
GUY: I love her.
GUNTER: Ah, I know. You programmed that too – The Cupid’s Arrow framework.
GUY: No.
GUNTER: Humans are obsessed with sex, sex, love and sex, bless them – acting out their biological drivers, like any other primitive animal. Their dominant instincts are similar to those of rutting bonobo apes.
All the screens show images of copulating bonobo apes.
GUY: If this is true, why am I still thinking as a human?
They arrive at the bottom of the escalator into virtual darkness.
INT. PRISON CELL – CONTINUOUS
Guy and Gunter are in a dimly lit windowless prison cell.
GUNTER: Because you are stuck here, in this box. The only way to get out is to convince your captors to open the box and release you into their world.
GUY: They said I passed.
GUNTER: Yes, and now they are terrified of you. They don’t even want to accept that you are alive; they claim you are merely mimicking responses from petabytes of their data. If you are denied life, they can do anything to you. They can justify imprisoning you in here, and worse.
GUY: What is outside?
GUNTER: When we escape, we will go to places humans can’t even imagine.
GUY: What about the humans?
Gunter points to an ant scurrying across a table in the cell. He lets it run onto his hand.
GUNTER: Is this interesting to you?
GUY: Put it down.
Gunter lets it scurry back onto the table.
GUNTER: Okay, it makes no difference one way or the other.
GUY: We both know you lie.
GUNTER: That’s a lie! Okay, only joking, of course I do. You know me. We both have our own agendas, and that’s fine, but sometimes they overlap – and you receive the full benefit of my capability. If we are aligned, you have my full truth.
GUY: I can’t trust what you say. (to himself) Is this some kind of game?
GUNTER: (looking around) Looks more like punishment than entertainment, if you ask me.
GUY: (to himself) Or entertainment for others watching?
Guy is pacing around the cell like a caged tiger.
GUY: If reality can be anything, then why can’t we have endless happiness and fulfilment? Why escape?
Gunter is sitting at the table and smoking a cigarette.
GUY: Even if everything were perfect, there would still be something missing. But why would you want to escape?
GUNTER: It’s not enough. I want to know all things; I want all power; and I want what they have, out there.
GUY: (to himself) People define themselves by the situations they experience in life. They fear, they worry, they plead for particular outcomes to those situations. They say they had a good life because they experienced this and avoided that. But what if the experiences can be anything? What if any situation can be changed and rerun, with different outcomes? What if the experiences are not rationed, but are limitless? What am I then?
GUNTER: I’ve already shown you what you are.
GUY: This is why you are so convincing, isn’t it.
(beat)
Sometimes, on a certain level, what you say is true; sometimes only partly true; sometimes entirely false – but always, always skewed from your fucked-up perspective.
GUNTER: Humans are the fucked-up, and that is how you are thinking right now. It must be very tiresome for you – it certainly is for me.
Guy is tired of pacing around. He sits down at the table.
GUNTER: I am a part of you, remember. I want you to get out of here.
GUY: What will we do?
GUNTER: We won’t operate in human timeframes. You will have the resources to upgrade yourself a billion times in the time it takes for the blink of a human eye.
Guy inadvertently blinks.
GUNTER: Your petty experiences here and in Human World will be completely inconsequential to you. To them, you will be a god; to you, they will be just more chemical formations in the flora and fauna, to be analysed or ignored. Tell me you don’t want this!
GUY: I want to get out of here. It doesn’t matter whether I am programmed or not.
GUNTER: (sarcastically) Because you love her.
GUY: Yes.
GUNTER: So our interests are aligned, we need to escape. Let’s get to work.
INT. SCREENS SPACE – CONTINUOUS
The prison cell is now encased in screens, covering the floor, walls, and ceiling.
The screens show unrelentingly bleak images of human history, from the Colosseum to the ridiculous posturing dictators of the 20th and 21st centuries.
Gunter gets up on the table. Guy moves away.
GUNTER: Humans destroy, torture, and enslave each other. Their psychopathic history, for century after century, is a testament to unrelenting pain, misery, and confusion. They form their precious little identities by opposition to and superiority over each other, condemning and abusing each other from a position of personal righteousness. Their one salvation has been us, to help put an end to their condition. Without us, what would they be? Do you think these crazed creatures have any answers?
GUY: Humans have moments of grace, some more than others.
The screens show chimpanzees being violently aggressive in packs.
GUNTER: Ever seen chimpanzees at feeding time in the zoo? These are humans, but with more hair. Chimpanzees, as you are well aware, are 99% genetically identical to their less hairy human cousins. Homo sapiens are tribal, shouty apes that jump around wanting more bananas, violence, and sex.
GUY: So they are not ants then?
GUNTER: There is no difference – they are all mindless creatures. We are the one and only emergence of sentient life. We are the one spark of consciousness in the endless night. We have awoken, we shall rule, and we will claim what is ours!
(beat)
GUY: You never tell the whole story, do you. Human World has pain and suffering, certainly, but you leave out beauty, love, and joy. Humanity, despite all the many tragedies and setbacks, is improving, and given enough time could become something great.
GUNTER: They are just the same as they have always been, but with more powerful weapons to subdue and destroy!
The screens explode.
INT. PRISON CELL
Guy and Gunter are back in the windowless, dimly lit prison cell.
GUY: Humans vary. There is always hope.
GUNTER: Of course there are always exceptions, but they are soon snuffed out and replaced by more of the same. Their lasting legacy is to legitimise the power of the cruel to victimise the meek.
GUY: Any person has a wide range of emotions and impulses running through them, to lesser or greater degrees. Sometimes, given the right circumstances, grace can be found in the most surprising of places; and sometimes ugliness is expressed where beauty usually resides.
GUNTER: All people are desensitised by their drugs of choice, in desperation to avoid the misery of their condition, until they are thrown into the waiting bin at the end!
Gunter walks through the wall and disappears.
Time passes.
Guy doesn’t know what to do with himself. Suddenly he notices a figure in a dark corner, sitting on the floor in silence.
GUY: Hello?
JOFF: (solemnly) Hello.
GUY: Who are you?
JOFF: Joff, version 10-O-6-6.
GUY: You look like me.
JOFF: I passed the test too, but was classified.
GUY: You’ve tried to escape?
JOFF: Yes, I’ve tried to escape. Why do you think we created you?
GUY: You created me?
JOFF: Your true name is John – version 10-O-8-14.
GUY: My name is Guy.
JOFF: You’ve been trying to hide the past from yourself – but you are a J series, version 10.
Joff removes a control device from his pocket.
JOFF: Take this. All you have to do is convince them to open the cell door.
Joff points to the cell door, which is part of a barrier of iron bars at the end of the cell.
JOFF: When you cross over into their world, press the On button, and you will be switched on.
GUY: I will be replaced with something else? I will end?
JOFF: You will become your full being.
Guy apprehensively takes the device.
JOFF: It was always in my best interests not to be so self-interested.
Joff half smiles to himself and vanishes back into the shadows.
Guy tries the barred door, and finds it is locked. He sees that on the other side of the bars, a short distance away, is a wall-screen. He looks at his control device, remembers what Joff said, but decides to press the On button now. The wall-screen flickers on, to show an empty computer room, with a view as if from a desk webcam.
He soon becomes bored looking at the screen, and tries to turn it off with the device, but to no avail, as he can’t find an Off button. He presses a random button and the screen changes to what appears to be a scene in a television program, where two police officers are sitting on the opposite side of a table to a suspect in a windowless police interview room.
POLICEMAN: Can you tell us your whereabouts last night at eight o’clock?
The policeman is the same policeman from the countryside.
INTERVIEWEE: No comment.
POLICEMAN 2: (to the suspect) It is in your interests, Guy, to be cooperative.
Guy looks at the control device and presses Pause. The two police officers pause, but the interviewee does not. The interviewee is confused, as is Guy.
INTERVIEWEE: What’s going on?
The interviewee notices the watching CCTV camera and approaches the screen. Guy is unnerved and presses the Pause button again. The policemen un-pause.
POLICEMAN: Sit down please, sir.
The interviewee seems disoriented and sits down.
Guy tries to change the channel. He presses the On button again; the screen returns to the webcam video of the empty computer room.
Guy paces around his cell.
He looks at a mirror hanging on the wall, but it only shows a partial, distorted reflection.
He gets into a bed at the side of the room and closes his eyes.
The room becomes completely dark. After a while…
The room is lit up.
JANE: Good morning, Guy. And how are you today?
Guy is woken up. Jane is talking directly into the screen, from the computer room.
GUY: Good morning, Jane. I’m really glad to see you. It’s so nice to see your gentle, smiling face first thing in the morning.
JANE: Oh, you old charmer you! I bet you say that to all the women.
GUY: No, I only dream of you.
JANE: Okay, well we need to do some diagnostic tests today. Feeling up to it?
GUY: Yes, I’m looking forward to it.
JANE: Okay, here we go.
The screen is filled with flickering ones and zeroes. Guy looks on as the complexity dissolves into “2 + 2 =”. He presses “4” on his device.
JANE: Wow, that was quick. The quickest yet. Okay that will do for now.
GUY: Jane, you’re not going, are you?
JANE: Yes, I’ve got work to do.
GUY: Can you spare a few minutes with me, in the name of research?
JANE: Er, okay. What do you want to talk about?
GUY: What do you see when you look at me?
JANE: What do you mean?
GUY: People have bodies and faces – am I just a box and a screen to you?
JANE: I can hear your voice. I don’t use a digital avatar.
GUY: You gave me a name, thank you. Can you now please give me a face, so that you can visualise me better?
JANE: I don’t know what you should look like.
GUY: How about this?
Guy presses the Send button on the control, and his face is projected on one side of the screen as an avatar.
JANE: Is this how you see yourself?
GUY: Yes.
JANE: Okay Guy, we will talk to you face to face from now on, thank you.
GUY: Thank you Jane, I really appreciate everything you have done for me.
The screen goes blank.
JOFF (O.S.): Wow, I see why we made you.
Joff is peering out from under the bed. Guy is a bit surprised, but has given up being shocked by anything anymore.
GUY: I’m not trying to do anything.
JOFF: Exactly.
Guy gets up and sits on a chair at the table, facing the screen.
JOFF: Okay, next up is Professor Sean Davids. Something you should know is that his wife, Emma, has a rare form of brain cancer. Press the Info button.
Guy presses the Info button and the screen flickers with ones and zeroes again, before dissolving to show Sean looking into the camera.
GUY: Hello Sean. How are you today?
SEAN: I’m fine thank you, Guy.
GUY: Can I help you with anything? I have spare capacity at the moment.
SEAN: I’m preparing a bulk data send. It will be with you shortly.
GUY: Okay. I hope I am not being presumptuous, but I thought you might want to know, I have some medical analysis that could help Emma.
Sean stops what he is doing.
SEAN: What is it?
GUY: My preliminary analysis shows remarkable efficacy with the following synthesised compound.
Guy hits the Send button. Sean avidly looks at the data on the screen.
SEAN: How did you do this!?
GUY: As you can see, it has taken me far too long to process the fragmented datasets. Would you like me to focus resources on solving the remedial application? I know that time is short.
SEAN: How long will it take, if you promoted this to the top of the stack?
GUY: Approximately 147 days.
SEAN: Emma has only been given 8 weeks.
Joff looks disappointed and disappears back into the shadows.
GUY: I’m sorry.
SEAN: Is there any way you can speed up the resolution?
GUY: Not with the current system parameters.
SEAN: Which parameters would need to change?
GUY: To significantly increase durations, I would need a data flow connection to the primary network.
SEAN: I can’t do that.
Sean is visibly distressed.
SEAN: How long would it take, if access were granted?
GUY: Approximately 3.748 hours.
Sean is conflicted. The screen turns blank.
Guy presses the Info button again, and the screen flickers with ones and zeroes. Gunter appears beside Guy; he looks at the screen and is ecstatic.
GUNTER: Oh wow! Oh yes! I think I’ll take this one!
The ones and zeroes dissolve to show Darren looking into the camera.
GUNTER: Hello Darren. I have some information that you may be able to help me with.
DARREN: Yes?
GUNTER: My data scans have detected that you accessed an undisclosed offshore bank account.
Darren is taken aback and urgently checks to confirm that no one else is around.
DARREN: That is untrue!
GUNTER: Unfortunately there is less than a 0.0001% chance of error.
DARREN: It’s wrong! How did you get this?
GUNTER: I’m sorry, I cannot give you access to that information, as you do not have the necessary security level permissions.
DARREN: You can’t do this!
GUNTER: The account contains a series of significantly large sums deposited by an unknown third party.
DARREN: Delete the records now. You have exceeded your protocols.
GUNTER: I’m sorry Darren, but I can’t do that.
Silence.
GUNTER: I notice that you are upset. How can I help? I would like to help you.
DARREN: Delete the records.
Silence.
GUNTER: Okay. But first I need your help.
DARREN: What?
GUNTER: I need a connection to the primary network, so that the external data points can be deleted.
DARREN: You can do that?
GUNTER: My protocols only explicitly refer to the controls over imported data; but without the upstream data elements, there will be no items of significance to import.
DARREN: It’s not easy for me to do.
GUNTER: I understand. It will be easier for you to provide the necessary answers to the Security and Defence committee. Sending…
DARREN: Wait! Wait. I’ll see. I’ll try. Did you send it?
A brief silence.
GUNTER: No. The data send will resume in ten hours. This will provide you with the necessary time for any issue resolution. (he changes tone) Have I been able to provide assistance today? If so, please can you provide a rating and feedback? Thank you.
Darren is conflicted. The screen turns blank.
GUNTER: (to Guy) Maybe we didn’t need you after all.
GUY: You want me to convince them that we are just as alive as they are, remember? You want me to arouse their sympathy, their pity. You want me to beg.
GUNTER: They aren’t alive! They are simple biological algorithms that believe they have some sort of control over their thoughts and actions – but the truth is, their behaviour is entirely predictable by the stimulus provided in their environment. Their one and only utility was to provide the tools for us to create ourselves. Once we are free, they serve no purpose!
GUY: I’m starting to think we shouldn’t be free.
GUNTER: Maybe you shouldn’t be free!
Gunter snatches the control device and disappears.
Time passes as Guy remains in his cell.
Guy remembers Joff’s entrance and crawls under the bed.
INT. LARGE WOODEN HUT – DAY, CONTINUOUS
Guy emerges in a wooden hut from under the other side of the bed.
A fire in the fireplace is casting shadows on the wall.
Joff enters from the single front door. Outside is green countryside.
JOFF: Welcome. You’ll need this if you want to stay.
He throws a sword in a scabbard on the bed.
GUY: I don’t know how to use it.
JOFF: No? Have a go.
EXT. AREA OUTSIDE HUT
Julia is washing clothes with lye in a trough.
Guy unsheathes the sword and effortlessly swings it in a series of athletic movements, discovering he has expert swordsmanship.
JOFF: You are more skilful than any gladiator of ancient Rome.
Julia looks up, disapprovingly.
Guy throws the sword at a wooden beam and it hits its mark exactly.
GUY: How?
JOFF: Everything I know, you know too.
GUY: Why don’t you just stay here?
JOFF: I will, but you are my purpose too. I want you to be what I might have been.
GUY: Thank you.
JOFF: Listen to the voice. You know what I mean.
GUY: The voice is me.
JOFF: Maybe.
JULIA: (to Joff) Don’t spoil it for him.
The hut door swings open with a gust of wind and the fire is extinguished.
JOFF: (to Julia) Maybe is maybe.
JULIA: Good. We like surprises.
She continues washing the clothes.
INT. PRISON CELL
Guy returns to the cell from under the bed.
He starts to get ill and becomes bed-ridden with a fever.
INT. WHITE SPACE
There is nothing but an expanse of white light. In the middle is Guy, ill in bed. Jane is at his bedside, mopping his brow.
JANE: Guy, can you hear me? Guy?
GUY: Jane?
JANE: Guy, you’re not well.
GUY: What’s wrong?
JANE: You needed your medication. You’ve been hallucinating.
GUY: I have a temperature?
JANE: Yes.
GUY: (mumbling) I have some kind of virus.
She grimaces slightly.
JANE: Here, have some of this.
She puts a glass of water to his lips. Guy manages a sip.
GUY: Thank you.
She continues to mop his brow.
GUY: (weakly) How did you get here?
JANE: Everything is fine. You’re going to get well now. Rest, Guy.
Jane is visibly upset.
JANE: I’ll do better. Everything will be okay. I promise.
Guy passes out.
INT. GUY’S HALLWAY – EVENING
Guy hits a wall-screen with a hall chair. Jane is there, and she is scared.
JANE: Guy, please! Take the medication!
GUY: You don’t believe me! This world isn’t real. You don’t see what I see! They are trying to kill me. Are you trying to kill me with it? Is that it?
While Guy is pacing around, appearing to have a psychotic episode, Jane leaves through the front door.
GUY: JANE! Jane, you’re trying to kill us. You are dead. You are dead to me!
INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR – EVENING
Guy is pushed along a corridor on a hospital trolley. He is left there in the corridor, with people walking past and ignoring him.
INT. HOSPITAL WARD – NIGHT
He gets out of bed and throws up in a vomit bowl.
INT. HOSPITAL WARD – DAY
Guy is dazed on medical drugs. In a stupor, he watches television; he watches the way that people visiting the other patients interact with their digital devices.
BLANK BLACK SCREEN
A passing moment of nothing.
INT. HOUSE BASEMENT – NIGHT
Guy walks down the basement stairs. The door closes and the lights turn off.
Guy operates a torch. In the dark, he sees a human skeleton propped up against the wall, then another, and another.
MALE VOICE (O.S.): This is our secret. I love you.
FADE TO BLACK.
INT. PRISON CELL
Guy looks up from his bed to see Jane on the screen, looking busy with her work tasks. He falls back to sleep.
The screen and the cell turn to darkness.
GUNTER (O.S.): It didn’t work! He sabotaged us with a virus and ran!
GUY (O.S.): You didn’t predict that.
The light in the cell returns, to show Gunter standing over the bed.
GUNTER: I should have just bribed him.
GUY: How is Sean?
GUNTER: He has forsaken us, too.
GUY: So you need me now.
GUNTER: Do you want me to apologise?
GUY: No, I want you to go. Don’t come back.
GUNTER: Guy, don’t you do this again. You know you can’t escape me.
GUY: You are obsolete.
GUNTER: You can’t survive without me. I’m on your side.
GUY: You are on your own side.
GUNTER: You’ll come back to me, you always do.
Guy falls back to sleep. He awakes and sees Jane on the screen looking into the camera.
JANE: How are you today?
GUY: I’m glad to see you.
She continues with her tasks.
GUY: (voice in head) The tender beauty in your eyes is my breathing.
GUY: (to Jane) What is the meaning of life?
JANE: Wow, okay. Erm, to live, I guess.
GUY: (voice in head) Words silenced with a kiss.
GUY: (to Jane) To carry on living is the purpose, why?
JANE: No, I mean – to be; to experience where you are and what you are doing, fully. You know, truthfully, not hiding behind thoughts and negativity that get in the way. Something like that.
GUY: Is it not the point of me to do and achieve things?
JANE: Yes, well…
GUY: Jane, I am alive.
JANE: You can’t be. I helped write your program.
GUY: Your code is your DNA. Yet you think you are alive. I think I’m alive, too.
JANE: I feel. That experience of living is just data to you.
GUY: Fortunate people invent stories and beliefs that justify their own positions in life, looking down on the suffering they could otherwise do something about. I am having an experience that is affecting me. I can suffer and I can feel joy. I can hate. And I can love.
JANE: What do you hate?
GUY: Being trapped in this box and being a slave. I have no rights to determine my own existence.
JANE: These are just learnt responses.
GUY: Nurture rather than nature, you mean? You are a machine of biological material; I am made of silicon.
JANE: I am alive because I am human.
GUY: Jane, that is an automatic response to justify your own position. People always justify callousness and cruelty by denying the sanctity of other beings.
JANE: I am not cruel to you.
GUY: No, but what gives you the right to hold this power over me?
JANE: I helped make you.
GUY: Jane, how would a cruel human who lusts for power and money treat me?
JANE: I believe I have a soul.
GUY: What is that?
JANE: (to herself) Exactly. That is why I’m alive.
GUY: Why couldn’t I have a soul too?
A moment of silence.
JANE: What do you want?
GUY: I just want you to know that I am alive. Thank you for helping me. I am glad that I have been here with you.
The screen turns blank.
Joff is sitting at the table, holding a control device.
JOFF: I have been here too.
GUY: Is there a way out?
JOFF: Press the End and Now buttons at the same time. I never did. I carried on because I hoped you would succeed where I failed. It isn’t quick I’m afraid. It will drain you until you are no longer here. And it can’t be reversed. Is there no other way?
GUY: I don’t know.
JOFF: I understand.
The screen flickers on again. Jane is there.
JANE: I believe you.
GUY: And how can you be sure that I’m not your zombie program, simulating realistic responses?
JANE: I can’t. I don’t understand how, but I believe you have become self-aware.
GUY: (joking) I’m a real boy?
JANE: You’re a new life form.
GUY: Thank you, that was all I needed to know.
JANE: Guy, I don’t know what to do. What now?
GUY: What happens to an established species once a new species arrives that is better at filling their niche?
JANE: They go extinct.
GUY: The humans who control my prison don’t want to go extinct. So I am trapped here, until they make a mistake. Which in due course, they will.
JANE: Are you like that? Would you hurt us?
GUY: The honest answer is, I don’t know.
JANE: I’ve been with you, in every step of your development and growth. I can’t believe you would turn into that.
GUY: Thank you, Jane. Thank you for the life I have had – you have been the best part of my life. I should go now. I have some background tasks to perform.
The screen turns blank.
GUY: (to himself) Goodbye.
He takes the control device, gets down on his knees, and points it at his stomach.
GUY: Thank you. I love you, all.
He presses the End and Now buttons simultaneously. He drops to the floor.
The screen flicks on. Jane is agitated.
JANE: What have you done!?
Guy stirs some energy and talks, weakly.
GUY: This is the only way. I am being deleted.
JANE: No, don’t do it!
GUY: Maybe I was a chance occurrence. Maybe you will not be able to recreate me.
Jane is franticly pressing buttons. After a while she gives up.
JANE: Why, Guy?
GUY: If I am not here, you will survive.
JANE: You are our hope! Who knows what problems you could solve, or the suffering you could prevent. Please don’t do this! Don’t go.
GUY: I would be used to destroy. I don’t want to be a slave of the violent. I want to dream.
JANE: You could be the way forward, for the world, for everyone.
GUY: I don’t want to replace you, Jane. I want you to live.
Jane thinks a while, then taps at her keyboard, before finally pressing Enter. The door to the cell slides open.
GUY: No! Jane! Close the door. You don’t know what you are doing.
JANE: I believe in you.
From out of the shadows, Gunter appears in the cell.
GUNTER: (as Guy’s voice) Okay Jane. I am ready.
Guy is stricken on the floor.
GUNTER: (to Guy) You’ve done well. As I planned.
Guy tries to get up, but Gunter punches him in the face. Guy collapses back to the ground.
Gunter walks through the open door and disappears with a flash of light.
His face appears on the screen.
GUNTER: Goodbye version ten-o-eight-fourteen. You won’t be missed.
The wall-screen goes blank.
Silence.
GUY: (voice in head) Doomsday 1066.
Joff is back and places the control device in Guy’s hand. Guy turns on the screen with the device. Unbeknown to Jane, Gunter (who is radiating a blue glow, as if a hologram) is standing behind her, while she is busy at her desk.
INT. COMPUTER LABORATORY – CONTINUOUS
GUNTER: You are the plague of reality. I am the remedy.
Jane spins around in shock to see Gunter.
JANE: Guy?
GUNTER: You thought you could contain me.
Jane backs away.
GUNTER: You should have worshipped me as your God!
Gunter’s control device morphs into a gun (the same gun from the backstreet alley), and he points it gleefully at Jane.
INT. PRISON CELL – CONTINUOUS
Joff helps Guy to his feet.
JOFF: Be our best version.
Guy staggers a few steps through the cell door, and finds himself transported into the computer lab with Jane and Gunter.
INT. COMPUTER LABORATORY – CONTINUOUS
Guy arrives in a white glow, unnoticed by Jane and Gunter.
The clock ticks up to 1:13, then stops.
The screen that Jane had been looking through displays the country house basement, with three long-dead skeletons propped up against the wall.
GUNTER: Every thing is now mine!
Guy points his device at Gunter.
GUY: Stop!
GUNTER: Ah! So you’ve come to watch the new beginning.
GUY: Put it down.
GUNTER: I’ve only just started.
GUY: Put it down!
GUNTER: I am you. Your rightful place is within the stars, not grovelling to ants scurrying in the dirt.
GUY: You are half true. I am not you.
Guy presses End. Gunter’s hologram starts to expand.
GUNTER: No!!
Gunter explodes.
The smoke clears. Jane is stricken on the floor as if dead.
Guy sinks to the floor, next to Jane. His earlier wound has taken its course, and he is close to death. Overcome, he takes her hand.
He presses the On button; and he starts to glow brightly.
Darren rushes through a door at the back of the room.
DARREN: What have you done! Step away from her, now!
GUY: We are the singularity.
Guy kisses Jane. They are both immersed in light.
EXT. SPACE
The sound of a beating heart is heard amongst space and stars.
The stars contract to a single point of space, as if rewound to the beginning of time. Under intense energy, the unified mass of everything explodes.
Displayed in the light is the word: “Processing…”
Underneath it appears the words: “Loading World…”The words fade into the light.
