Work Text:
[CLICK]
[ALL SOUNDS HAVE TUNNEL ECHO]
[SOFT SHUFFLING AS THE ARCHIVIST GETS OUT OF THEIR SLEEPING BAG]
[SIGH]
[FABRIC RUSTLES AS THE ARCHIVIST READJUSTS THE SLEEPING BAG FOR MARTIN, WHO IS STILL SLEEPING]
ARCHIVIST
[softly] I’m sorry.
[FOOTSTEPS AS THE ARCHIVIST WALKS AWAY]
[SEVERAL BEATS OF SILENCE]
[TOSSING AND TURNING AS MARTIN SEEKS OUT WARMTH]
MARTIN
[groggily] Jon?
[SOFT, AND THEN INCREASINGLY AGITATED MOVEMENTS]
[increasingly panicked] Jon? Jon!
Shit.
[LOUD SHUFFLING AS MARTIN GETS UP IN A HURRY]
[CLICK]
_________________________________________________
[CLICK]
[ALL VOICES HAVE TUNNEL ECHO]
MARTIN
– telling you, you need to go now!
GEORGIE
Shouldn’t we try looking for him first? If he just needed some air and we go in now, we’ll mess up the timing and set the fire too early.
MARTIN
I know he’s going up there to smite Jonah now! You heard him! He really didn’t like this plan.
[Beat] Besides, Jon’s never the first one to –
GEORGIE
[remembering, and overlapping] – to get up.
[BEAT OF SILENCE]
MARTIN
[a mix of amusement and fondness, with a nervous chuckle] No, not normally.
MELANIE
(can we move on now??) Riiight. At least, not unless he was planning to do something he knew we wouldn’t like.
[starts a bit slowly, like she’s gathering steam to go off] And so he went off on his own. Again! Like he thinks he’s some, messiah, and what we agreed on together doesn’t mean shit. [sounding increasingly pissed]
MARTIN
Hey, that’s not fair. He still blames himself for all of this. You know he does.
[MELANIE LETS OUT AN ANNOYED HUFF]
[MOVEMENTS AND BRIEF FABRIC RUSTLES AS GEORGIE PUTS HER HAND ON MELANIE’S ARM TO GENTLY INTERVENE]
GEORGIE
Honey...
BASIRA
(being her classic no-nonsense self) Okay, so Melanie and Georgie, you two go in now. I’ll distract the guards.
MARTIN
I’ll go up the Panopticon and– and stall Jon somehow, keep him talking.
BASIRA
There’s just one problem – doesn’t Jon still have the lighter?
GEORGIE
Oh! No, no, I’ve got it! Said I needed a smoke.
[MOVEMENTS AND A METALLIC CLINK AS GEORGIE PRODUCES THE LIGHTER FROM HER POCKET]
MELANIE
(in the background, and slightly muffled, like she’s leaning into Georgie and half-speaking into fabric) Ha, well played, hon.
GEORGIE
He seemed pretty distracted when I asked to keep it.
BASIRA
Yeah, the lighter does that. [considering] Probably all part of the Web’s plan, huh.
(right, too much talk already) We’re good to go then?
MELANIE
[quite viciously] Yep! Let’s go light this place up.
GEORGIE
(to Martin) You two be careful.
MARTIN
We will. You too. [to everyone, trying to sound cheery] Don’t get burned!
MELANIE
(heh) We’ll try our best.
BASIRA
Good luck.
[CLICK]
_________________________________________________
[CLICK]
[SCREECHING, SWIRLING STATIC INDICATES THE CENTRAL CHAMBER OF THE PANOPTICON]
[FOOTSTEPS ON MARBLE]
JONAH/ELIAS (BACKGROUND)
– and whispers deep within her mind those bitter thoughts that make her hate herself and those that reassure but cannot hide their secret loathing that will leak and spread from tongues that mumble just outside the edge of hearing things he knows will be his fate for all his efforts to protect himself and what he loves will burn away to ash inside –
ARCHIVIST
Jonah Magnus!
…
[ARCHIVIST STATIC RISES]
Ceaseless Watcher, you know why I am here.
Release him.
[STATIC CRESCENDOS AND THEN DIES DOWN AS CHANTING AND BACKGROUND STATIC DRONE CEASE]
…
Jonah Magnus.
JONAH/ELIAS
[Groggy] Jon? I-I-Is that you? Uh, I, I was having the most wonderful dream…
ARCHIVIST
[Icily] Get up.
JONAH/ELIAS
What’s – ? Wh-what’s going on? Where – ?
[METAL BLADE IS DRAWN]
Oh. I-I see.
ARCHIVIST
It’s over.
JONAH/ELIAS
Is it? [sigh]
Yes. Yes, I suppose it must be.
[TIRED EXHALATION]
Where’s Martin? I rather thought he’d be the one to do the deed.
…
[METALLIC CLINK]
Ah, I see. Going it alone, are we? Probably for the best. Empathy only holds you back in the end.
ARCHIVIST
You’ve failed.
JONAH/ELIAS
Have I?
ARCHIVIST
Immortality. It’s impossible. Even without me, nothing escapes entropy. Not forever. Not even fear.
JONAH/ELIAS
Yes… Pity.
I suppose I always knew that, deep down. But it was wonderful while it lasted. I’ve seen more than I could have lived in a thousand lifetimes, and every moment was so –
ARCHIVIST
Shut up!
It ends now. All of it. I am going to take this world that you used me to create, and I am going to burn it out. It’s the only way. I’m going to leave it a barren, lifeless void, cold and unafraid and then finally, when everyone’s gone, and I am all that’s left, I will have the satisfaction of knowing that I’ll be leaving these things that you serve trapped and starving in their own private hell.
JONAH/ELIAS
…
That we serve.
ARCHIVIST
Not for much longer. I wonder if they’re even capable of fearing their own ends.
I look forward to finding out.
JONAH/ELIAS
Uh, L-Look, Jon, a-as fun as all this melodrama is, enough is enough. We both know that you don’t have it in you –
[FOOTSTEPS, FOLLOWED BY SOLID CONNECTION]
ARCHIVIST
That was for Sasha.
JONAH/ELIAS
J-Jon, wait!
[ANOTHER BLOW, ACCOMPANIED BY WHEEZING]
ARCHIVIST
For Tim.
JONAH/ELIAS
[Afraid] P-Please Jon!
[AND AGAIN]
ARCHIVIST
For Daisy. [voice finally breaking a little]
...
[recovering] And Gertrude, and all the others.
[WINDED, LABOURED BREATHING]
JONAH/ELIAS
[Wheezing, pitiful] P-Please Jon… [coughs] I don’t want to die.
ARCHIVIST
Neither did they.
JONAH/ELIAS
[Soft, terrified] No, no… N–
[DOOR OPENS]
[HEAVY AND HURRIED FOOTSTEPS RING ON MARBLE]
MARTIN
No! Jon, wait!
[HEAVY BREATHING]
ARCHIVIST
[surprised] Martin.
So you got up after me. [turning rueful, but fond] Never could fool you for long, could I.
MARTIN
Oh thank god. Just, just, just stop what you’re about to do, okay? I know that you think that all this is your fault, and you want to fix it. But it doesn’t have to be like this, just listen –
JONAH/ELIAS
[catching his breath and regaining his composure] Hello, Martin.
How are you? I am quite certain there’s a little domain in my world made just for you. You didn’t like it?
MARTIN
...
[tight, with barely contained anger] Jonah Magnus. [beat] Wasn’t talking to you.
JONAH/ELIAS
Pity. I was going to thank you. You realise you do have a habit of letting me live when you have the chance to see me die. [taunting, audible self-satisfied smirk]
[SHARP INTAKE OF BREATH]
ARCHIVIST
[softly] Martin –
MARTIN
Well, it won’t happen again. You. Die. Today. [pauses as he looks over to Jon] No matter which one of us has to do it.
JONAH/ELIAS
Promises, promises. Seems like you can’t even agree between yourselves, though. [amused and smug] What’s going on, Jon? Mutiny in the ranks? And I thought this one was supposed to be… [he lets that hang for a moment] loyal.
[HEAVY FOOTSTEPS ON MARBLE AS MARTIN STOMPS OVER TO JONAH/ELIAS AND TOWERS OVER HIM]
MARTIN
You shut up, you – you snake! [overcome with incandescent rage]
ARCHIVIST
Martin, it’s fine. He’s just riling you up. [contemptuous] Because he’s terrified.
JONAH/ELIAS
[somewhere between his usual smooth composure and afraid & pleading] Really, Martin, if you are planning to hit me, that – that really won’t be necessary. Our dear Archivist here has already seen to that.
MARTIN
[through gritted teeth] Stop calling him that.
Jon?
ARCHIVIST
[quietly] Oh yes, I did.
For everyone we’ve lost.
MARTIN
Good.
[HEAVY THUMP. WAS THAT A KICK?]
[WHEEZING]
That was for Jon. [beat] And Basira, and Melanie.
[WHEEZING CONTINUES IN THE BACKGROUND]
ARCHIVIST
[amused] Thank you, Martin.
MARTIN
I – I mean, not that I think you can’t beat him up yourself, ‘course you can – (heh) you did! I just –
ARCHIVIST
[audible smile] Yes, yes... I know. That’s quite alright.
...
MARTIN
Do we need to tie him up? I brought ropes.
ARCHIVIST
[fond] Yes, I remember.
We don’t...have to, I think. He’s tied to this place, he can’t go anywhere.
And he can’t make the Eye do anything to me – to us. [vicious] And he knows it.
MARTIN
Sounds...good!
What, Elias? Nothing to say to that?
JONAH/ELIAS
[still out of breath, but with venom] I think my accomplishments to date speak for themselves.
ARCHIVIST
[quiet] You have done enough, yes… No more.
That is why I have to do this. Martin, I– I’m sorry, really, I am. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, and the others, but I knew you’d try to stop me, and [huffs a laugh] here you are.
MARTIN
[urgently] No, no, no, no, Jon, just listen, listen to me. I’m sorry, but you can’t do this, you can’t go through with this now –
ARCHIVIST
But I need to! I tried. I went through our plan in my head, trying to come to terms with it. I really did. And I know that’s what all of you think is best, and you– you just want me safe, but… I can’t do it, spread the fears. I can’t let them out. I can’t! Not again.
JONAH/ELIAS
[in the background, overlapping] Spread the fears? What are you – [is ignored]
MARTIN
[overlapping] N-No… you don’t understand!
ARCHIVIST
What?
MARTIN
I’m sorry, Jon. I’m, I’m so sorry… I, I saw you had gone and… and I knew that you-you couldn’t help yourself. I knew that you hated the plan, and that you’d lied to me, and you were going in alone…
ARCHIVIST
Martin? What did you do?
MARTIN
[hesitant] I told them to go early. To do it straight away and… I’d keep you talking. Until they are done.
ARCHIVIST
[Calm] Oh, Martin.
MARTIN
And it’s too late, I–I’m sorry, but we can’t call them back now. Melanie and Georgie are down there fighting those things ...and they should be getting near the gas main, any minute now.
ARCHIVIST
[distracted, thrown that his plan is derailed] No, no, it’s fine, Martin. I, I know I can’t ask you to follow me on this one, but I have to try to go and convince them… s–stop them, somehow…
And they can’t light it, they don’t have… they don’t…
[PATS CLOTHING]
Wait a –
Oh… Oh, no.
MARTIN
I’m… I’m sorry, Jon, but Georgie took –
ARCHIVIST
[realising, under his breath] Georgie has the lighter…
[ARCHIVIST STATIC RISES AS HE KNOWS]
[half in a trance] She’s carrying it right now… That’s why– that’s why I can see it now! I–I couldn’t before…
Wait. Oh, wait –
MARTIN
[anxious] What? Jon, what –
ARCHIVIST
[MORE STATIC]
Something’s changed.
[CLICK]
_________________________________________________
[CLICK]
[ALL VOICES HAVE TUNNEL ECHO]
[BACKGROUND NOISE OF THE WATCHERS MOVING IN A DISTANCE, SOMETIMES LOUDER AND WITH THE ODD BANGINGS AND GENERAL COMMOTION]
[FOOTSTEPS AND CANE TAPS]
GEORGIE
I hope Basira is okay. That… really doesn’t sound good.
MELANIE
Basira can handle herself, she’ll be fine.
…
I’m more worried about (heh) the antichrist and the plus one if you ask me.
GEORGIE
[sighs] [and then somehow manages to roll exasperation, weariness, and scepticism into one word] Melanie…
MELANIE
[defensive] What, I didn’t come up with the titles. An–and I just mean, we’ll be really lucky if Jon doesn’t end up doing something stupid. [lower, more of a grumble] stupider than usual, anyway.
GEORGIE
[disapproving, but lets it slide] Hmmm.
Well, Martin should be able to talk him down.
MELANIE
If he gets there in time. [huffs] And to think we’d finally got a half-decent plan.
GEORGIE
…
We have the lighter, at least. And Jon doesn’t know that.
MELANIE
Mmm, true.
[FOOTSTEPS AND CANE TAPS, BRIEF MOMENT OF SILENCE]
[bright] Hey! If… If we make it out of this… maybe, maybe we can co-host What The Ghost?, y’know?
GEORGIE
Oh, yeah! [chuckles] You can do the ads, then. Wow, [happily] can’t believe I’ll finally be rid of them!
MELANIE
Whoa, hon, I love you, but that’s really cruel.
GEORGIE
[still giddy] Well, you volunteered!
MELANIE
[exasperated] Yeah, but I was thinking more along the lines of, of – shaking up the format a little. Like, you keep collecting spooky stories, follow up on research and stuff, and I could do the field work or something. Gives it a bit of a, uh, fresh angle?
I kind of miss it, you know. The gig with Ghost Hunt… before – well, before.
GEORGIE
[surprised] Really? After all this? Thought you’d be sick of paranormal encounters already.
MELANIE
(phewww) I don’t know. Ghosts are fine, I guess. Mostly. Unless they start shooting at me.
[SNORT FROM GEORGIE]
Besides, if–if our [air quotes audible] mission goes well, we won’t have any more eldritch fear gods! And ghosts can go back to just being normal ghosts.
GEORGIE
[wistful] Yeah.
…
[LOUD CLATTERS AND NOISES OF FRANTIC, AGITATED RESPONSE]
MELANIE
Shit.
GEORGIE
Damn it! (urgh) I was really hoping we’d got past all of them.
MELANIE
How many behind us?
[FOOTSTEPS AND CANE TAPS SPEEDING UP, SOUNDS OF THE WATCHERS IN SOME DISTANCE BEHIND THEM]
GEORGIE
[tense] Can’t really tell, they’re not close enough for the torchlight.
MELANIE
[darkly] Best keep it that way.
We’re close though, yeah?
GEORGIE
Yeah, thank god. The next turn should be it.
[MORE TENSE WALKING AND TAPPING IN A FAST PACE]
…
Okay, I see it up ahead.
MELANIE
Well, let’s hope this works, and works fast.
[MOVEMENTS AND METALLIC CLINKS AS THEY TAKE OUT THEIR TOOLS]
[SOUNDS OF THE WATCHERS GETTING CLOSER]
MELANIE
…Sounds like they’re close.
[METALLIC SOUNDS AND SQUEAKS AS THEY PRESUMABLY START FIDDLING WITH THE VARIOUS SWITCHES AND THE VALVE]
GEORGIE
[heavy sigh] Yes, well. Pity… I was honestly looking forward to going back to podcasting, y’know?
…
[soft, distant] I suppose… ‘The moment that you die will feel exactly the same as this one.’
[VERY FAINT STATIC, BARELY THERE AS GEORGIE RECITES THE LINE]
MELANIE
[spooked] What?
GEORGIE
[startled, as if shaking off a trance] What? Oh, no, ah – nothing… Just, erm, remembering something someone told me, once, it was – it’s nothing.
[MORE TINKERING NOISES FILL THE SILENCE]
MELANIE
…
[tentatively] Didn’t sound like nothing.
GEORGIE
[heavy sigh] Yes… you’re right. It’s about that… incident with ‘The End’, I’ll, I’ll tell you the whole thing if we get out of this. Promise.
MELANIE
(well, of course) Oh, we will. I, for one, refuse to die getting torn to pieces by some creepy old eyeball zombies. We’ve still got some style, love.
GEORGIE
[laughs] Oh, honey. Alright, then.
[STOMPING OF SAID EYEBALL ZOMBIES ECHOING LOUDER AND LOUDER]
Anyway, we’d better finish up.
MELANIE
Sure. Another twist and this comes off. You want to set something on fire first?
GEORGIE
Yep! Getting to that…
[FABRIC MOVEMENTS AS SHE TAKES OUT THE GOLD LIGHTER WITH EMBOSSED SPIDERWEB PATTERN]
[LIGHTER SNICKS OPEN]
[GEORGIE LIGHTS UP SOMETHING AT HAND. CRACKLING SOUND RISES.]
[STATIC RISES SUDDENLY TO A HIGH INTENSITY]
[SHARP INTAKE OF BREATH, FOLLOWED BY A METALLIC CLANK AS THE LIGHTER CLATTERS ONTO THE GROUND]
What the… ?
MELANIE
[overlapping] Whoa, whoa, what–what is happening?
GEORGIE
I–I’m not entirely sure, the lighter is – Well, it burned me.
MELANIE
What? Are you alright?
GEORGIE
Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I dropped it, and it was only for a second. This is… weird, though. It didn’t do that last time.
[STATIC RISES AGAIN, ACCOMPANIED BY A SOFT, ALMOST SOOTHING WHOOSHING AND CRACKLING SOUND, GRADUALLY INCREASING IN VOLUME]
[SOUNDS OF THE WATCHERS GETTING EVER CLOSER IN THE BACKGROUND]
[GASP]
Oh, god, you’ve got to be kidding me.
MELANIE
[overlapping] What is it now, and, eh… is something burning?
GEORGIE
It’s… Melanie, I think, I think it’s a ghost. It’s – emerging from the lighter, and it’s, erm, it’s kind of on fire?
MELANIE
(so done, am I even surprised anymore) Right. A burning ghost. Great!
[SOUNDS OF THE WATCHERS ARE NOW VERY LOUD]
[false cheer] … And let me guess, the creepy old dudes are here now, aren’t they?
GEORGIE
[grave] Yes, I can see them now.
They’re not charging at us, at least, just… closing in.
[FOOTSTEPS OF THE WATCHERS ARE ECHOING ALL AROUND]
[STATIC WITH WHOOSHING AND CRACKLING SOUNDS KEEP RISING IN THE BACKGROUND]
MELANIE
Jesus. Okay, so what do we do? I mean, I have my cane… and a knife, and you have your hammer and spanner, I guess?
GEORGIE
…
I think we should break the valve and set it off now.
MELANIE
You reckon they’re ready up there?
GEORGIE
One way to find out!
[METALLIC CLINK AS GEORGIE PICKS THE LIGHTER BACK UP FROM THE GROUND]
[STATIC WITH WHOOSHING AND CRACKLING SOUNDS COMES CLOSER INTO FOCUS AS IT COMES NEAR GEORGIE AND MELANIE]
GHOST
[airy, with an echoey and staticky quality that presumably comes with being a ghost] Wait.
MELANIE
What the – [laughs, slightly hysterical] Sorry, but, what the ghost?
GEORGIE
(Urgh) Oh lord, Melanie! Not the time!
[SOUNDS OF SHUFFLING AS GEORGIE AND MELANIE ADJUST POSITIONS, SLOWLY BACKING TOWARDS THE MAINLINE]
[MELANIE DRAWS HER KNIFE]
GHOST
[softly] The lighter.
MELANIE
Look, whoever you are, can we do this when there isn’t an eldritch eye army waiting to eat us alive?
GHOST
[as if noticing the Watchers for the first time] Oh.
[ITS WHOOSHING AND CRACKLING STATIC BECOMES MORE ECHOEY AS IT GLIDES INTO THE DISTANCE, BUT THEN THE STATIC GOES HAYWIRE AND THE CRACKLING FLARES UP TO A ROAR, FOLLOWED BY BURNED HISSINGS]
GEORGIE
Oh, wow! Okay. It’s just – setting those old archivists on–on some sort of ghost fire, it’s decimating them.
MELANIE
[incredulous] Are you telling me… mysterious ghost from the lighter is actually helping us, like, like good ol’ Genie from the magic lamp?
GEORGIE
[bright] Seems that way!
[THE ROARING FIRE CONTINUES, AND SEEMS TO COME FROM VARIOUS PLACES IN THE TUNNELS]
MELANIE
Does that seem… suspicious at all?
GEORGIE
Honestly? No clue. But if it wanted to kill us, it could have torched us already.
MELANIE
Fair enough, I guess.
[GHOST STATIC COMING BACK INTO FOCUS, UNTIL THE CRACKLING IS CLOSE BY AGAIN]
GEORGIE
[to ghost] Hey, sorry, we don’t mean to be rude, but… who are you?
GHOST
[SHORT BEAT]
[quiet, but voice strangely melodic] Agnes. Agnes Montague.
[CLICK]
_________________________________________________
[CLICK]
[SCREECHING, SWIRLING STATIC INSIDE THE CENTRAL CHAMBER OF THE PANOPTICON]
MARTIN
[urgently] What do you mean ‘something’s changed’? Is Georgie and Melanie okay? And Basira?
ARCHIVIST
[STATIC RISES]
[disoriented] I–I think they are? Yes… I think they are okay. But something… something is going on with the lighter. It was burning hot for a second, and–and then…
[STATIC RISES TO A FRENZY, FOLLOWED BY A SHOUT OF PAIN FROM THE ARCHIVIST]
MARTIN
[alarmed] Hey, hey, j–just stop. Just stop for a second, okay?
[FABRIC RUSTLES AS MARTIN CATCHES THE HALF-COLLAPSING ARCHIVIST AND STEADIES HIM]
ARCHIVIST
[with difficulty] I, I can’t – I can’t see beyond that, it seems.
MARTIN
[softly] Hey, it’s alright, you’re alright.
[STATIC SLOWLY SUBSIDES]
ARCHIVIST
The, ah, the tunnels are still – difficult, for me to see I mean… half-hidden. Though, uh, being here helps. [humourless laugh, bitter] At the Eye’s seat of power.
But, I might still need to, uh… [sheepish] I might need a statement soon.
[MARTIN HUFFS A SMALL LAUGH, AND IT IS CLEAR THAT HE SOUNDS MORE AMUSED THAN ANYTHING AT THIS POINT]
I know, I know. [smiles] I’ll try to make it quick, it’s just, that was… that was a lot.
[FABRIC RUSTLES JUST AUDIBLE, FOLLOWED BY A LOW CONTENT HUM]
JONAH/ELIAS
[regained composure, back to enunciating his consonants with precision and malice] Don’t pretend you do not want this.
ARCHIVIST
[slightly startled, as if only just remembering Jonah/Elias is still there] What?
JONAH/ELIAS
‘The Eye’s seat of power’. You were going to kill me over it. Don’t pretend that wasn’t envy.
[SMALL INTAKE OF BREATH]
[SEVERAL BEATS OF HEAVY SILENCE]
MARTIN
[hesitant but aiming to reassure, and… does he sound just a touch apologetic?] J–Jon –
ARCHIVIST
[quietly, but cold, almost pitying but not quite] You still don’t know, do you.
JONAH/ELIAS
[lets out one cruel and taunting laugh] What don’t I know? I can see everything.
ARCHIVIST
But not the Web, isn’t that right, Jonah? And not Hill Top Road… not even the tunnels, still.
And it has been eating at you for a while now, hasn’t it, in the small part of your mind that was still capable of a modicum of conscious thoughts. Because the Eye has made you its vessel, your mind has ceased being your own, and it has been so very difficult to think –
JONAH/ELIAS
I. Made this world. And I saw that it was good.
ARCHIVIST
[humourless laugh] Did you now.
[turning vicious] You still don’t understand. ‘You who watch and know and understand none.’ This isn’t your victory! Or your, your apotheosis – it never was!
[CRACKLING STATIC RISES ALONG WITH THE ARCHIVIST’S AGITATION]
[INDIGNANT SHOUT FROM JONAH/ELIAS, BUT IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO MAKE OUT WHAT HE IS SAYING AS STATEMENT STATIC FLARES]
[CLICK]
_________________________________________________
[CLICK]
[ALL VOICES HAVE TUNNEL ECHO]
[AGNES MONTAGUE’S CRACKLING STATIC IN THE BACKGROUND]
BASIRA (BACKGROUND)
[shouting from a short distance] Melanie? Georgie?
MELANIE
[delighted] Basira! Knew you’d be fine!
[FOOTSTEPS GETTING LOUDER AS BASIRA GETS NEARER]
GEORGIE
Thank god, Basira! We were worried.
BASIRA
[urgently] What’s going on? One second I was fending off five of those eye things, and the next they just burst into flames. And I think I saw a ghost?
…
Oh. This ghost, actually.
[THE CRACKLING STATIC AUDIBLE AS GEORGIE AND MELANIE WAIT FOR A SECOND TO SEE IF AGNES MONTAGUE WANTS TO FILL BASIRA IN HERSELF. SHE DOESN’T.]
MELANIE
(okay?) Right. She’s from the lighter, apparently. She was just telling us she’s, eh, Agnes Montague?
BASIRA
[sudden recognition.] Oh. [to Agnes] You’re Agnes Montague. With the Lightless Flame?
AGNES
[beat] Not with. Not anymore. [distant] Or maybe I never was.
MELANIE
Right. How about we get to the part where you materialised from the lighter?
AGNES
Annabelle put me there, some time after I met with Gertrude. [sounding distracted] Time is… difficult to follow.
GEORGIE
Wait, so how are you here now? I used the lighter just yesterday – it worked like a normal lighter.
AGNES
[BEAT, AS SHE INCLINES HER HEAD]
[softly, matter-of-fact, as if that explained everything] Fire feeds me.
And you. You are… peculiar. You don’t have – ties – to any of it. [considering] No web around you.
BASIRA
(back to business) Okay, anyway. You said Annabelle Cane put you there. Why? What was her plan? Because she did not tell us about this.
AGNES
...
[sounding genuinely curious] What did she tell you about the lighter?
GEORGIE
Only that it is an anchor of the Web’s power to the tapes. [slightly hesitant] What, erm, what did she tell you about it?
AGNES
[sounding as if she is surprised by the question] She didn’t.
The flame and the spider understand each other well.
[BEAT OF SILENCE]
MELANIE
[impatient, this close to exploding] Well, you were the one asking us to wait when we tried to light it. I assume you had something important to tell us?
AGNES
...yes.
[BEAT]
[quiet] When the flames go up… throw the lighter in.
BASIRA
[trying to process this] What… happens if we do that?
[SILENCE WITH ONLY THE CRACKLING STATIC IN THE BACKGROUND. AGNES DOES NOT SEEM TO BE VOLUNTEERING ANY MORE INFORMATION]
(...do I have to do all the work around here) Right. The lighter ‘anchors’ the Web’s power to the tapes, or whatever. So, if we destroy it…
Hang on, does that mean we destroy the connection?
AGNES
[slowly, regretful] The Spider weaves many strands; the lighter is only one. But… it will still hurt to have it burned out of them.
MELANIE
So, so what? Does that weaken the Web? Maim it? What.
GEORGIE
[considering] That’d give whichever worlds the Fears land into a decent head start.
MELANIE
[bright] Yeah, if the Web needs time to (heh) lick its wounds.
BASIRA
…
That might be… more than we can hope for.
AGNES
[lets out a soft laugh] Isn’t that what we all do?
BASIRA
What?
AGNES
... [seems to be deep in thought and not planning to reply at all]
[quiet, wondering to herself] Maybe this is what Annabelle wants.
The Mother-of-Puppets has always suffered at the hand of the Flame, after all. And she had to know that.
[QUIET CRACKLING STATIC]
[CLICK]
_________________________________________________
[CLICK]
[STATEMENT STATIC CONTINUES TO RISE AND DROWNS OUT ALL BACKGROUND NOISES UNTIL THE AIR TURNS QUIET AND CONTEMPLATIVE]
[ANIMAL NOISES – CHIRPS, CROAKS AND CALLS]
ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)
Once upon a time there was fear. Old fear. Primal fear. A fear of blood and pounding feet, a fear of that sudden burst of pain and then nothing. And that fear was nothing. Went nowhere. Knew not what it was.
Then it became. Or perhaps it always was and simply entered. But fear was here and true and was itself, and it hungered. It wished to know more. It wished to feel more. It wished to be more. And to those things that hurried through the grass, that shivered through the night in their burrows and their caves, because they knew the dark held flashing talons and shining eyes, they fed the fear. It was blunt and it was simple, but still it was solid enough to satisfy. And the thing that was fear was sated and content.
Then came minds that knew it differently. They grew slowly, over the millennia; inch by inch they found new things to dread. The fear of their own end, of the things that lived in the darkness, became a fear of the darkness itself. And as they grew to know what it is that they saw, to give it names, and struggle at learning, so too did they learn to fear that their eyes might deceive them, or show them too much. And as they learned to know their friends and kin, so too did they learn to fear the unknown figure, the coming of the stranger, and the silence when they were alone. And when they found fire, that bright ignition of home and hope and progress, the thing that was fear gorged itself on a newfound terror once again.
[ROARING FLAME RUSHES THROUGH, FOLLOWED BY STORM SOUNDS]
And as these tiny, strange minds grew and learned, they did something new. They began to take their thoughts, their instincts and their horrors, and they crystallised them. They gave them sound and form and shape to share them. And as they did the thing that was fear felt itself began to tear, to crack and fracture along a thousand unseen fault lines. It bled and warped and multiplied, and could no longer see itself as once it did. It could never be whole again.
But within these forms were freedoms, new and wonderful dreads to push and explore, new muscles to flex. The joy of oozing, crawling pestilence as minds distrusted their own corrupted bodies. The satisfaction of surrounding them, suffocating them, reaching down into them and drinking in their panic as breath failed them.
And as they grew to learn their place within the world, the pathetic meagreness of their own existence, they could not spin a story rich or grand enough to fully hide their own awful insignificance, lost and alone in the terrible greatness of the universe. And by the time these minds had reached a point of intricacy to lie and scheme and puppet one other, they had also learned to conceive of war.
[DRUMBEATS POUND A SINISTER CALL]
And as the things that were fear hovered at the edge of the world, the flowing horror of these minds nourished them, swelling some and withering others, pushing and pulling the shattered, swirling mass of terror into ever newer and undiscovered forms.
[SOFT VOCAL SUSURRATIONS JOIN THE DRUMS]
And something else began to happen. Some minds did not simply recoil from them and feed them. Some seemed almost to call them, to court them, to hunger for them in return. Minds that saw the faces of the things that were fear, and were compelled as much as they were repulsed. Whether or not they knew what it was they did, they called out. And they were answered.
[DRUMS FADE LEAVING BEHIND THE CHITTERING MURMURS]
Time is different for fear, and it cannot be said exactly who was the first to open themselves and be filled with the power of terror. A hermit, huddled in a pitch black cave through winter, who emerged and brought the depth of night with him wherever he trod. A pestilent chieftain who found her breath sloughed from her body and rotted whatever it touched. A warrior driven from their village, who found their face as smooth and shifting as the sands of their home. Which came first does not matter, the unseen gap was bridged, and the thin veil between the world that was and the things that were fear had been torn, ever so slightly.
[VOICES ARE JOINED THEN SUPERCEDED BY GUTTURAL ROARS]
And with this tear, they grew stronger, bolder, pouring themselves into the world and creating monsters. Long things that wore you like a suit, smiling things that stripped you from your bones, unseen things that watched and watched and watched and never left you. And with each new creation, each new servant, the Fears reached further and fed the things that made them.
And with this newfound power came greed. The hunger for more, the unformed, unfocused, but impossibly huge desire to exist. To join the minds that gave them shape and purpose, and finally drink their fill ‘til they were one and the same. They had no concept of how, or when, or even why, but they needed it. They needed it.
[A CHORAL DRONE BEGINS]
And so the things that were fear began to sing, to draw ever more multitudes to them, to shape them and push them and beg them for freedom. For existence. But though they jostled and pushed and fought to emerge, they could not. For they could not conceive of what or where they were beyond the words and images the minds below could give them.
[FAINT BUZZING SOUNDS, AS THE ROARS FADE AWAY AND ARE REPLACED WITH AN ALMOST MECHANICAL CLACKING]
But there was one, the part that some would call the Spider, that had been given a gift beyond all its brethren. The minds that feared grew suspicious of their own schemes, of connections and consequences, and over time these suspicions became threads, then webs, then nerves that granted the Spider, the Mother-of-Puppets, the Hidden Machination, a mind of its own; to plot and plan and draw its own connections, its own conclusions. Wheels, within wheels within wheels… It would not, could not tell its other parts, for were they even able to understand such things, which they could not, to trust, to share in such a way ran counter to its very essence.
And so it drew its plan to escape not only this ephemeral cage of non-existence, but even the very reality into which they might break, and it chose its fool: The Great Eye, the most unwise of all the fragments, forever seeking and consuming knowledge that it could not comprehend. It played and twisted and through The Eye brought about a new world, a wide and unending vista of terror and agony, and the place from which it might spread, and spin another web far grander than anything conceived of in the minds that birthed it.
Finally, it would find its escape and with it… apotheosis.
[SOUNDS FADE AS STATIC RISES AND THEN ITSELF FADES]
[THE ARCHIVIST EXHALES DEEPLY]
ARCHIVIST
No. It won’t. It will only find its end.
[SEVERAL MOMENTS OF SILENCE]
MARTIN
[a little hushed, and trying for levity] You can sound like Annabelle sometimes, you know that?
ARCHIVIST
[taking *full* offence] I do not!
MARTIN
[audibly trying not to laugh] (whatever you say) Sure.
JONAH/ELIAS
[somewhere between his usual smugness and mere stubbornness] I still brought about a new world.
[A DEEPLY IRRITATED NOISE, BORDERING ON DISGUST, PROBABLY (DEFINITELY) FROM MARTIN. IF YOU LISTEN CLOSELY, YOU CAN FEEL THE TEMPERATURE DROP TO SUBZERO FROM THE ICY FURY RADIATING OFF HIM.]
[continuous] This world of terror and agony, all below my feet. All beneath my eyes. I drank my fill; I saw it all.
The Spider might be attempting its ritual now… but its apotheosis would not even be possible if not for mine.
ARCHIVIST
(not even going to waste my breath anymore) Hmm.
JONAH/ELIAS
[quite cavalier about it, or is he faking it?] So what are you going to do now, Jon? Kill me?
[THE ARCHIVIST LETS OUT A WEARY EXHALE]
[VERY SOFT FABRIC MOVEMENTS, BARELY THERE]
MARTIN
J–Jon…
ARCHIVIST
[lightly] Stuck in a little stalemate, are we?
MARTIN
[sigh] Yeah.
Wh–what about the, um, lighter situation? Can you… See anything more there?
ARCHIVIST
[STATIC RISES, THOUGH MUCH FAINTER THAN IN THE LAST ATTEMPT]
No… not really. I know it hasn’t gone off yet –
MARTIN
[laughs a little, overlapping] We’d probably know if it had.
ARCHIVIST
– and the lighter isn’t… damaged, or anything. And the others are still – are still safe.
[STATIC FADES]
[BEAT]
So there’s no reason [slightly bitter] your plan wouldn’t still work, if that’s what you want.
MARTIN
I just – Jon, please. I can’t leave you trapped here killing the world while I watch! I can’t –
I can’t [voice breaks] lose you.
ARCHIVIST
[gently] We could still be together, here. Until it’s over.
[turning firmer] And you promised.
MARTIN
[Angry trembling] Don’t you dare say that. Don’t you dare! You promised too!
[TENSE SILENCE]
ARCHIVIST
[small sigh, pensive] We did, didn’t we.
[considering] We could…do it together.
MARTIN
…How do you mean?
ARCHIVIST
I mean –
[METALLIC CLINK AS THE ARCHIVIST HANDLES THE BLADE]
– we kill him together.
JONAH/ELIAS
[*now* he shifts back to frightened] Now, let’s just take a second – [sounding like he really believed he could somehow bluff or weasel his way out of dying up to this point]
MARTIN
[overlapping, ignoring Jonah/Elias completely] Wait, hang on – how would that even work? What would happen if we do that?
ARCHIVIST
[huffs a laugh] Honestly? I’m not entirely sure.
[BEAT, INHALE]
[quiet, carefully (there’s no telling for how long he’s thought about this)] Do you, eh…do you know how many marks you have now?
MARTIN
What are y– Wait. What?!
ARCHIVIST
[frustrated, and finally he lets himself sound a bit scared too] I’m not saying – I’m just saying I don’t know! I have no idea how this will go!
Maybe… Maybe the Fears will go with the tapes, or maybe the Eye will still take me… [Martin makes an agitated sound at this] Maybe it’ll try to go for us both. Maybe we both die. Probably. But maybe not.
[doesn’t sound like he really believes that, but.] Maybe the Fears won’t know where to go, so they go back to where they came from.
MARTIN
That’s… a lot of maybes.
ARCHIVIST
Well, your plan is built on as many maybes.
[softer] And…who knows? Maybe, maybe, everything works out, and we end up somewhere else.
[BRIEF SILENCE AS THEY CONSIDER THIS]
[A CRACKLING STATIC RISES IN THE BACKGROUND. THE ARCHIVIST LETS OUT A GASP, FOLLOWED BY MARTIN CRYING OUT, ALARMED. THERE IS A DISTORTED SCREAM OF PURE TERROR AND AGONY SOMEWHERE IN THE BACKGROUND.]
[gasping] They lit it.
[urgently] Martin? If we do this – it has to be now!
[A LOW RUMBLING BEGINS TO RISE, SEEMINGLY FROM THE GROUND, AS THE BUILDING BEGINS TO TREMBLE EVER SO SLIGHTLY. STATIC RISES HIGHER.]
MARTIN
[slightly panicked, starts high] Okay? Okay…
[beat] Together?
ARCHIVIST
One way or another. Together.
[FOOTSTEPS ON MARBLE, ALMOST DROWNED OUT BY THE BACKGROUND RUMBLING, AND THE SQUEALING STATIC BECOMES INCREASINGLY INDISTINGUISHABLE FROM JONAH/ELIAS’S PAINED SCREAMS]
JONAH/ELIAS
[frightened, and choking out the words with difficulty] P-Please, please, no -
MARTIN
[vicious] Should have thought of this before you doomed the world, then.
[SOUNDS OF STRUGGLE AS THEY PRESUMABLY HOLDS JONAH/ELIAS DOWN]
[METALLIC CLINK]
JONAH/ELIAS
[desperate] P-Please! I don’t - y-you don’t want to do this -
ARCHIVIST
[heavy] No-one gets what they want, Jonah. Not in this world you’ve made.
[to Martin, quiet] Take my hand.
[WITH EFFORT, THEY STAB DEEPLY]
[STATIC IN THE BACKGROUND]
[EXTENDED SOUNDS OF CHOKING & GURGLING DEATH RATTLE]
[BODY SLUMPS HEAVILY]
JONAH/ELIAS
[Wetly] Good… luck.
[DROPPED BLADE RINGS OUT ON MARBLE]
[STATIC SHARPER AND MORE HARSHER THAN BEFORE]
[THE ARCHIVIST GASPS]
MARTIN
Jon!
ARCHIVIST
Martin, I – [cries out in pain]
[EXPLOSION RESOUNDS, FLAMES ROARING UP IN THE BACKGROUND]
MARTIN
[MOVEMENTS AND FABRIC RUSTLES, JUST BARELY AUDIBLE, AS MARTIN STEADIES THE ARCHIVIST AND HOLDS HIM UP]
Hey, hey, hey, hey, talk to me, Jon. Is–is the Eye…
ARCHIVIST
[struggling] It’s, it’s all the Fears… They’re...confused – looking for, for a way out… [sounding distracted] But why – the tapes…
[ARCHIVIST STATIC RISES, AND A SECOND, CRACKLING STATIC FADES INTO EXISTENCE AS WELL]
Oh. Agnes.
[STATIC SUBSIDES]
MARTIN
What? What about her?
ARCHIVIST
[still sounds pained, but less out of breath, even a little amused] Behind you.
MARTIN
Wha -
[CRACKLING STATIC COMES TO THE FORE, WITH THE FAMILIAR SOFT, WHOOSHING SOUND, AGAINST THE BACKGROUND RUMBLING NOISE]
AGNES
[VOICE WITH THE SAME ECHOEY AND AIRY QUALITY AS BEFORE]
[shyly] Hi.
MARTIN
[overlapping in the background] - Oh, Christ.
ARCHIVIST
[with effort] So it was you then… In the lighter. And it was you channeling the fire up here, and holding it off, until… until the right moment - [audible pained wince]
AGNES
Yes.
ARCHIVIST
And the lighter?
[METALLIC CLINK AS AGNES PRESENTS THE GOLDEN LIGHTER, NOW BURNING IN AGNES’S HANDS, FIRE CRACKLING CLOSER]
Ah. [faintly delighted] Cobwebs tend to burn, yes.
MARTIN
Ha-hang on, what does that mean?
AGNES
… [thoughtful] I don’t think Annabelle knows either.
ARCHIVIST
[distracted, remembering, and the pieces start slotting into place] ‘And in that vast, dark space of ignorance lies: free will.’
She’d played her part to its completion, she said. [huffs a laugh] Looks like she’s written a few lines of her own, after all.
MARTIN
[sounding put out] Jon.
ARCHIVIST
[shaking off the trance] Right, yes… Sorry. Annabelle put her in the lighter.
MARTIN
...Right.
AGNES
[softly] It will be ashes soon.
ARCHIVIST
...
Any…last request?
AGNES
[for the first time the melodic quality of her voice sounds more watery than airy] …Jack.
Is he…suffering?
ARCHIVIST
[quiet] Ah. Jack Barnabas.
[STATIC RISES BRIEFLY]
He’s in - uh…a Desolation domain. [carefully] Do you…want to know more?
[CRACKLING STATIC FILLS THE SEVERAL SECONDS OF SILENCE]
AGNES
[very quiet] ...No, I don’t suppose I need to.
ARCHIVIST
[beat] If this all goes well, he won’t be for much longer.
[A VERY FAINT SIZZLING SOUND, LIKE WATER HITTING THE GROUND AND EVAPORATING, BARELY AUDIBLE AGAINST THE BACKGROUND CRUMBLING SOUND AND CONSTANT STATIC]
[softly] I’m sorry. And...thank you, Agnes.
AGNES
[audible faint smile] I think it’s time for me to burn out now. [voice beginning to fade]
Thank you…and, goodbye.
[WHISPERS OF ASHES FROM THE LIGHTER, AND FROM AGNES]
MARTIN
[sounding quite affected] That was…
ARCHIVIST
[heavy] Yeah.
[CRACKLING AND WHISPERS OF ASHES BLOWING AWAY]
[dry, but quite pleased] And now… there’s a loose end in the Web.
MARTIN
Is that… That’s a good thing, right?
ARCHIVIST
Maybe? The Fears are, [pained laugh] the Fears are certainly afraid, which -
[THE ARCHIVIST LETS OUT ANOTHER CRY AS BUILDING AND REALITY START CRACKING, WITH STATIC SCREECHING AND SQUEALING THROUGHOUT]
MARTIN
[panicked] Jon! [audibly trying to sound calm] Hey, Jon…hey, just -
[FAINT FABRIC RUSTLES]
Just, just breathe with me, okay?
[A FEW SECONDS OF LABOURED BREATHING]
ARCHIVIST
[wheezing] R-right… I was… going to say, that’s not… [pained] necessarily good news, f-for me.
MARTIN
[trying to joke and failing desperately, voice is wobbly] Yeah? I hadn’t noticed.
…It’s this place, isn’t it. It doesn’t…it doesn’t want us to leave.
ARCHIVIST
[still with difficulty] No-not me, at least. Not until the Fears are…out of the picture, no.
MARTIN
[close to tears] But by then it’ll be too late! This place is - it’s -
[AS IF ON CUE, CRUMBLING STONE AND MARTIN CRIES OUT AS IF STRUCK BY SOMETHING, STARTS SOBBING]
ARCHIVIST
Martin, get out of here! You still can, maybe… If you go now -
MARTIN
No! I’m not leaving you!
ARCHIVIST
If you stay, you’ll die!
MARTIN
Then I’ll die!
You said: ‘One way or another. Together.’
ARCHIVIST
[BEAT]
[softer, pleading] Martin, please… I can’t lose you.
MARTIN
You won’t. Where you go, I go, remember?
ARCHIVIST
That’s the deal…
[PANOPTICON CONTINUES TO COLLAPSE]
MARTIN
[audible watery smile] That’s the deal, yes.
[A MOMENT OF SILENT UNDERSTANDING]
ARCHIVIST
[fond and exasperated] You know you are very good at throwing my own words back at me.
MARTIN
[pointedly] Apparently someone has to.
[brighter] Well, now that you’re done trying to make me leave -
[THE ARCHIVIST HUFFS A SMALL LAUGH]
[continuous] - we might as well get comfortable. Come on.
[MOVEMENTS AS THEY SETTLE DOWN IN A CORNER IN THE CENTRAL CHAMBER, SOUNDS OF CRUMBLING AND STONES FALLING CONTINUE IN THE BACKGROUND]
[A MOMENT OF SILENCE. FABRIC RUSTLES]
MARTIN
So… you reckon destroying the lighter made a difference at all? Or are the Fears still going to spread to countless other worlds, like the Web intended.
ARCHIVIST
I-I don’t know. Probably? [heavy sigh] And… [quieter] I don’t think we’ll ever know. If, if the Fears are crossing into…these other worlds, they can only leave this one once this place is, ehm, in complete ruins, and by then…
MARTIN
By then it’ll be too late for us anyway.
ARCHIVIST
Yeah.
[BEAT]
[with some humour] Burning the lighter is probably more of a, uh, final ‘screw you’ to the Web from Annabelle. Her… [dry, but also sounds like he is impressed but doesn’t want to show it] stage exit, so to speak.
But for - things as old as the Fears…
MARTIN
(let’s just stop right here) Yeah, yeah, I heard your whole monologue about it, point taken.
…
Who knows though? Maybe, maybe with a loose thread, whatever - webs the Web has spun will…will start unravelling or something, and then the Fears will be trapped in some - interdimensional void.
[THAT DRAWS A LAUGH FROM THE ARCHIVIST]
ARCHIVIST
[very fond] Oh, Martin.
[still sounding amused, but sobering a bit] With the luck we’ve had, I find that hard to believe.
MARTIN
I don’t know, I’d say I’ve been pretty lucky, all things considered.
ARCHIVIST
[audible smile] That’s…quite sweet of you.
[FABRIC RUSTLES]
[lightly, hard to tell if he’s only joking or still a bit miffed] Although, I thought you were in favour of spreading the Fears?
MARTIN
I’m not - I never wanted. That. It’s just - [getting higher] all options are shit options! And, and anything’s better than seeing the world like this any longer!
ARCHIVIST
…You feel guilty about having a domain.
MARTIN
[sarcastically] Maybe a little?
[BEAT]
Sorry. That wasn’t fair.
ARCHIVIST
[sigh] Fairness doesn’t come into this, Martin. It’s not - it’s not a competition.
MARTIN
Yeah.
And, again, I also just, couldn’t bear to lose you.
ARCHIVIST
[overlapping, quietly] - lose me. Yes. [audible rueful smile] I quite understand, really.
[COLLAPSING AND FIRE SOUNDS CONTINUE IN THE BACKGROUND]
[CLICK]
_________________________________________________
[CLICK]
[COLLAPSING AND FIRE SOUNDS CONTINUE, NOTICEABLY LOUDER AND CLOSER NOW]
[THEIR VOICES ARE QUITE QUIET THROUGHOUT]
MARTIN
You know what this reminds me of?
ARCHIVIST
[slightly muffled, like he’s speaking into clothes] What?
MARTIN
[like he’s trying not to laugh just yet] Hiding from Jane Prentiss in Document Storage; [teasing] you thought I was a ghost.
ARCHIVIST
You sounded like -
MARTIN
[snickering properly now] - like a ghost?
ARCHIVIST
No. You sounded like you were implying - [a little petulant] never mind.
MARTIN
[taking mercy] I wonder what happened to the room, y’know? Like, did it just melt into this, this abomination, or is it still down there.
[remembering] God, that bed was bloody awful.
ARCHIVIST
[with mirth] Yes, I remember.
[considering] Hmmm.
[STATIC RISES FAINTLY, BUT FADES JUST AS QUICKLY]
Oh. Interesting.
MARTIN
What?
ARCHIVIST
I got a…vague impression, and then it was just - [sounding quite excited] Pooofff.
MARTIN
Pooofff? What’s ‘pooofff’?
ARCHIVIST
[sigh] (wasn’t my joke funny) I mean, maybe - maybe soon I won’t be able to...Know anymore. Feels like it’s fading, anyway.
MARTIN
Ohhhh. Wow, that’s - [checking] that’s good, right?
ARCHIVIST
…
[soft] Yeah, that’ll be really nice.
[CLICK]
_________________________________________________
[CLICK]
[THE CRACKLING OF FIRE FROM BEFORE HAS BECOME ROARING NOW, AND THE CRACKING OF STONES IS VERY LOUD. STATIC A CONSTANT IN THE BACKGROUND]
MARTIN
[mid-rambling] - ould get a dog too. Or a cat, I mean, you probably want a cat more anyway, yeah?
…
[alarmed] Jon? W-what’s, what’s wrong?
ARCHIVIST
I-I think I…
[quiet] Martin, I think I might be going blind.
MARTIN
Oh…oh, Jon.
[FABRIC RUSTLES]
ARCHIVIST
[muffled] If we even get out, that is, by some magic [huffs a humourless laugh]. This is probably it.
MARTIN
[soft] Hey, if we get out of this, I’ll do the seeing for both of us, sounds good?
ARCHIVIST
[audible smile] Yes, Martin, that sounds good.
[SEVERAL BEATS OF SILENCE, AND THEN A CRASHING SOUND THAT SOUNDS DANGEROUSLY CLOSE]
[THE BACKGROUND ROARING FIRE, SOUNDS OF COLLAPSE, AND STATIC CONTINUE]
…
[very small] Martin, I’m, I’m scared.
MARTIN
Just close your eyes, just close your eyes, Jon.
ARCHIVIST
No, I-I want -
I want to see you, one last time.
[SOB (FROM MARTIN)]
[FABRIC RUSTLES]
[SOUNDS OF THE CENTRAL CHAMBER CAVING IN, STATIC FLARES INTO A FRENZY]
[KISS]
MARTIN
[quietly, just about audible] I love you.
ARCHIVIST
[fond] I know. I love you too.
[LOUD CRASH]
[DISTORTED SCREECH, WITH SOUND LIKE TAPE RAPIDLY UNSPOOLING (OR IS THAT REWINDING?) AMIDST A RISING CRESCENDO OF STATIC]
[THEN… CLICK]
_________________________________________________
[LONG SILENCE]
[CLICK]
[SOUND OF SHIFTING RUBBLE AND DEBRIS; BIRDSONG CAN BE HEARD FAINTLY]
BASIRA
Huh.
[MORE SHIFTING RUBBLE]
Still works.
GEORGIE
[Calling] You found something?
BASIRA
Just one of the old tape recorders.
[FOOTSTEPS ON RUBBLE]
GEORGIE
God, tough little bastards, aren’t they?
BASIRA
Yup.
[MORE FOOTSTEPS OVER RUBBLE]
MELANIE
No luck?
GEORGIE
No. Still no sign of them.
BASIRA
No bodies, though. That’s a good sign, maybe?
GEORGIE
Maybe.
MELANIE
Huh.
[BIRDS TWEET, WHILE SOUNDS OF PEOPLE BUILDING OR CLEARING ARE HEARD IN BACKGROUND]
Maybe it’s time to accept that they’re gone.
BASIRA
Hm.
MELANIE
And, honestly, it’s probably for the best.
I mean, I just don’t think people would exactly be understanding. You remember what happened when they found Simon Fairchild?
GEORGIE
Yeah…
MELANIE
And he’s not just some powerless left-behind avatar, you know? We’re talking about ‘The Archivist’.
BASIRA
Yeah okay, you’ve made your point. [sigh] Would just be nice to know for sure.
GEORGIE
All we can do is hope.
BASIRA
I suppose.
[LONG PAUSE]
GEORGIE
We should go. It’ll be dark soon, and we still need batteries for the nightlights.
MELANIE
And I’m sure Rosie’s keen for us to take the Admiral back off her hands.
GEORGIE
She’s alright, he’s calmed down a lot.
MELANIE
Thank god for tinned tuna.
…
Come on.
BASIRA
What do you want me to do with this?
GEORGIE
Leave it. We’re done with tapes.
MELANIE
Want me to smash it?
BASIRA
I think… we can probably just turn it off.
MELANIE
Okay.
[FOOTSTEPS AS MELANIE AND GEORGIE WALK AWAY]
BASIRA
If anyone’s listening… I don’t know if we made a difference in the end. I hope so.
[sigh] Goodbye.
I’m sorry, and…
Good luck.
[CLICK]