Quiet
[CLICK]
[FOOTSTEPS ON GRAVEL OR DIRT, AS A LIGHT RAIN FALLS]
MARTIN
So this is it, then.
…
How dreary.
[FOOTSTEPS]
[Calling] Hello!? Anybody!?
John?
Hello!
…
Big surprise.
Well at least I can still remember everything this time. And no more bloody chairs.
It’s weird, though. Never actually been anywhere like this. That said, it is kind of… huh…
[STATIC RISES]
[THERE IS A SLIGHT REVERB ON ALSO MARTIN’S FIRST WORDS AS HE APPROACHES]
ALSO MARTIN
Wuthering Heights.
MARTIN
Yeah. God, I hated studying that. It was all just so…
ALSO MARTIN
Overblown.
MARTIN
Yeah…
ALSO MARTIN
But that cover… those wide empty spaces. It felt right, didn’t it?
MARTIN
So what? That’s where we are?
ALSO MARTIN
Right down to the monochrome.
MARTIN
Hm.
D’you have an umbrella?
ALSO MARTIN
No.
But you don’t want one. We like the rain.
MARTIN
True.
ALSO MARTIN
Because it makes the sadness feel at home. It turns it from a burden into –
MARTIN
[Sigh] – an indulgence
ALSO MARTIN
That’s right.
[PACING]
MARTIN
So what is this? You’re part of me so you know everything about me? Is that it?
ALSO MARTIN
Yes.
MARTIN
Because you’re part of my domain?
ALSO MARTIN
Also yes.
MARTIN
Some sort of cosmic joke about ‘being alone with my thoughts’, I assume?
ALSO MARTIN
I’m here because you’re trying very hard not to be alone. To resist the comfort.
MARTIN
So, instead I get to talk to myself?
ALSO MARTIN
Apparently.
[PACING CONTINUES THEN STOPS]
MARTIN
Okay, so if I’m so desperate not to be alone, why isn’t John here? Hmm? He can find me anywhere.
ALSO MARTIN
I don’t know.
MARTIN
[Dubious] Oh yeah?
ALSO MARTIN
Look, I know what you know. Maybe I’m just a bit more… open about it.
MARTIN
And what do you mean by that?
ALSO MARTIN
Like how you don’t actually want him here? Maybe that has something to do with it?
MARTIN
You’ve no idea what you’re talking about!
ALSO MARTIN
I mean, you can argue with me if you like. Seems like a bit of a waste, though.
MARTIN
I – No, a –
ALSO MARTIN
It’s alright. It’s hard to be vulnerable.
MARTIN
[Resigned] It’s not that.
ALSO MARTIN
No?
MARTIN
No, I just… I’m ashamed to let him see this place, alright. To see what – I don’t know, what feeds me?
ALSO MARTIN
Sure, that’s part of it, but… it’s not the whole thing, is it? Not really.
MARTIN
What do you mean?
ALSO MARTIN
Well, if you don’t count ‘memory manor’, when was the last time you were even on your own?
MARTIN
Well I… hmm.
ALSO MARTIN
It has been a very long time since the Institute.
MARTIN
That’s… a good point.
ALSO MARTIN
It’s okay to want a bit of space now and then. New romance is hard. And armageddon makes it even harder, never mind the fact that you’re metaphorically joined at the hip thanks to the whole ‘eye-lord’ thing. It’s okay to want some space.
MARTIN
Ohhhhh, I see.
ALSO MARTIN
See what?
MARTIN
I get it. So that’s your deal. You tell me what I want to hear to try and get me to stay.
ALSO MARTIN
[Wearily] Seriously? Fine. If you don’t want to engage, if you want to pretend I’m just some… temptation ghost, you go ahead. Knock yourself out. Like I said, I’m not your enemy.
MARTIN
[Archly] Oh really? I thought you said you were me?
ALSO MARTIN
Right, yes. Very clever.
MARTIN
We have our moments, I guess.
ALSO MARTIN
Look, if you want to leave, you can. It’s not a problem.
MARTIN
You won’t try to stop me?
ALSO MARTIN
I mean, it really doesn’t matter to me. You leave and I’m just you again. It’s all the same to me, really.
MARTIN
So why do you want me to stay then? Hmm?
ALSO MARTIN
Because you want to stay. Because you want to have a real rest. To just breathe and … be quietly sad, I guess.
[SILENCE AS THE RAIN GETS A LITTLE HEAVIER]
MARTIN
It’s not healthy.
ALSO MARTIN
Maybe not, but I’m not entirely sure what healthy options are even left, at this point.
MARTIN
We could talk to John about it.
ALSO MARTIN
We could. But we both know that loved ones make the worst therapists. They’re too wrapped up in trying to stop you hurting to actually help. But hey, we know all about that, am I right?
MARTIN
There’s nothing wrong with comforting people.
ALSO MARTIN
A cup of tea isn’t a resolution. At best it’s a… a plaster. At worst… a muzzle.
MARTIN
Yeah, yeah.
Even so, I could murder a cuppa. I doubt you’ve got a kettle out here though.
ALSO MARTIN
As a matter of fact, I do have a thermos.
MARTIN
You’re joking?
ALSO MARTIN
This is our domain. You’re not supposed to suffer here. Well, not like the others… you know what I mean.
[A METAL FLASK IS UNSCREWED]
[ELONGATED SOUND OF TEA POURING]
Here.
[FLASK IS RESEALED]
[MARTIN SIGHS DEEPLY AS HE SIPS]
MARTIN
Wait that’s… wait, is that…?
ALSO MARTIN
Yeah, sorry about that. There’s only so much we can do, what with the new world and everything. Even the good things get tinged with memory.
MARTIN
Eurgh. Oolong. Of course. Of course! Whenever I asked a question she didn’t like, or she wanted to stop the conversation –
ALSO MARTIN
Off you’d go to put the kettle on.
MARTIN
And it always had to be that bloody oolong. Eurgh.
[ANOTHER SIP]
Blergh.
ALSO MARTIN
…
It wasn’t your fault.
MARTIN
Yes, it was.
ALSO MARTIN
That’s just the guilt talking.
MARTIN
Oh, you think?
ALSO MARTIN
She was awful.
MARTIN
She wasn’t well.
ALSO MARTIN
Both things can be true.
MARTIN
She was still my mum! Our mum. Whatever!
ALSO MARTIN
[Emphatically] And we’re glad she’s dead.
MARTIN
Jesus…
ALSO MARTIN
Too much? Like I said, I’m a bit more open.
MARTIN
I –
ALSO MARTIN
Don’t lie. You don’t need to. Not here. It’s just us.
[HEAVY SIGH FROM MARTIN]
MARTIN
If we’re glad, why do I feel so…
ALSO MARTIN
Guilty?
Because you feel guilty about everything.
MARTIN
That’s… That’s not –
ALSO MARTIN
Your mother.
MARTIN
Stress is a proper factor in a stroke –
ALSO MARTIN
Everything that’s happened to John.
MARTIN
I brought Jane Prentiss to the Institute!
ALSO MARTIN
The end of the entire world?
MARTIN
If I’d done what Peter had asked… If I’d not chickened out, and just killed Elias when I had the chance…
ALSO MARTIN
Really? Really? That’s how you’re choosing to remember it? Chickening out?
MARTIN
I remember it was the wrong choice.
ALSO MARTIN
You choose to remember it that way, and so the guilt –
MARTIN
I get it, alright? But I need it. I-I choose the guilt, because…
ALSO MARTIN
[Leading] Because…
MARTIN
Because it motivates me to do better!
ALSO MARTIN
…
Does it though? Or… does it just keep paralysing us, make us shrink back and wait, hoping things work out? Like with John, when we thought the worms had got him.
MARTIN
Hey, to be fair, he still kind of hated me back then. I’m really not sure it would have been the time to take my shot.
ALSO MARTIN
Fair. He was projecting hard. Between us, that guy’s got some real issues.
MARTIN
Hey! Pretty sure we love ‘that guy’.
ALSO MARTIN
Yeah, and all his many, many problems.
MARTIN
Fine.
ALSO MARTIN
But also, you know that’s not what I’m talking about. It’s this, this fantasy that you have, that whatever you find at the top of the Panopticon is just going to solve everything.
MARTIN
I don’t –
ALSO MARTIN
You do though. You daydream about it! The big climactic showdown with Elias, and then the two of you kiss, and push a button that just magically saves the world and makes everything better.
MARTIN
It’s actually not a button, so –
ALSO MARTIN
Stop. Deflecting.
MARTIN
[Angry] S-So what, okay? We should just give up? Hmm? Just stay here and curl up into a ball and just accept the world as is? Hmm? That’s your big solution?
ALSO MARTIN
I’m saying there aren’t any easy solutions. We have no idea what’s going to happen. Even if we make it to the tower, we don’t know there’ll be a fix. And if by some miracle there is, we both know the price will be awful. Just look at Melanie.
MARTIN
I –
[A RESIGNED SIGH]
ALSO MARTIN
We are completely out of our depth. We’re responsible for everyone everywhere, and we have no idea what we’re doing. The last thing we need is self-indulgent guilt on top of that.
MARTIN
I can be a real manipulative prick, you know that?
ALSO MARTIN
Oh, yeah.
[PAUSE FOR REFLECTION]
[MARTIN FINISHES HIS CUPPA]
MARTIN
[Grimly] Tea.
Please.
[FLASK IS UNSCREWED AGAIN]
[TEA SOUNDS ENSUE]
So, this price. What do you think?
Are we going to have to kill John?
ALSO MARTIN
I don’t know because you don’t know. But it seems like something we should at least consider.
MARTIN
I… have thought about it. And… I won’t. I don’t think I could.
ALSO MARTIN
Mmhmm.
MARTIN
But anything else? Any other price? I’ll pay it.
ALSO MARTIN
Even dying?
MARTIN
Yeah!
ALSO MARTIN
John’s as bad as we are. He wouldn’t let it happen.
MARTIN
It’s not his decision.
ALSO MARTIN
Fine. So flip that round, then. What are you going to do when he tries to sacrifice himself, because you know he’s going to try?
MARTIN
I don’t know, all right? I don’t know.
ALSO MARTIN
And that’s okay for now, but I just want us to have thought about this stuff properly before it comes up. Because even if that’s not it, chances are it’ll be something else you don’t want to do, and we need to make a proper choice. We can’t just react out of shame or fear or whatever.
MARTIN
What, like with Peter and Elias?
ALSO MARTIN
Yes.
MARTIN
That was a proper choice?! I chose wrong!
ALSO MARTIN
But you made a decision. Your own decision. Regardless of the outcome.
MARTIN
I… I’ll think about it.
ALSO MARTIN
We’ll think about it.
MARTIN
Sure.
[ANOTHER SIGH, ANOTHER SIP]
What about the people here?
ALSO MARTIN
What people?
MARTIN
I don’t know. My… ‘prisoners’, I guess?
ALSO MARTIN
What about them?
MARTIN
Why haven’t we talked about them?
ALSO MARTIN
Because you didn’t want to think about them. So, we didn’t.
MARTIN
Yeah? Well, I want to now. Consider it a ‘proper choice’ if you like.
ALSO MARTIN
Okay.
MARTIN
Can I see them?
ALSO MARTIN
No. This place is about hidden, unnoticed suffering.
MARTIN
I can feel them, though.
ALSO MARTIN
Sure, you’re aware of it, dimly. A sort of far-off, lonely terror. But there’s no way for us to actually see or hear them.
MARTIN
Hmm. But… if this is my domain, can I fix that? Like, can I change things?
ALSO MARTIN
If you wanted to start actively tormenting them, I’m sure this place would oblige. But ‘fixing’ things? Making it easier on them, or freeing them… probably not.
MARTIN
Fine.
…
Can you tell me about them?
ALSO MARTIN
I can. Deep down, we do know what’s happening to them.
MARTIN
Do we know who they are?
ALSO MARTIN
We never met them in the old world. Although one of them is named Tim. Just a coincidence, I think, unless it was a subconscious thing on our part.
MARTIN
Tell me. Please. Like John would.
ALSO MARTIN
Why? Just so you can torture yourself?
MARTIN
I want to know the exact limits of my guilt.
ALSO MARTIN
Fair enough.
ALSO MARTIN (STATEMENT)
I can’t tell you their names, because we don’t know them. Who they are, who they were – these details are lost to us. But they’re also lost to them. Sometimes they get flashes, moments of people they might have been. Phantom pasts, the ghosts of happy futures. But they’re empty, and vanish if they try to hold them.
One of them is young, though he has always felt old. He has always felt tired. He has stood apart from everyone who ever cared for him and never felt the distance. His family were cold, and so to keep that coldness at bay, he built a towering wall between them and him. He hid it in jokes and practiced smiles, but on a cloudy day, they could see it. And when he was able to leave his family behind, that wall came with him, following him, keeping out the world.
He would walk the streets of the city at night and wish the world away, so it could be just him, with no-one to know him or judge him or hurt him. Sometimes, when the emptiness inside began to bite, he reached out for people, and took a friend or a lover. But when he did, it was only to watch them beat themselves again and again against that wall, until they finally relented, and he was alone once more. He told himself it was for the best. He told himself he liked it like that.
And now he is here. The wall still surrounds him, though now it encircles all the fields where he staggers, wet from the rain, and cold from the wind. He calls out for somebody to see him, for somebody to know how achingly hollow he is. He walks and walks and walks, desperate for another voice, for someone to know where he is and what he’s going through. But he can’t shout too loud. If he does, he feels the thick grey mulch rising from where it has settled in the hollow of his chest. It pushes up his throat and streams from his mouth instead of words. It is clouded and so bitterly cold that where it lands, the scrubland grass turns brittle and crumbles away, leaving only ice, pulled from the deepest parts of him, hardened and crusted into a smooth, dark mirror, reflecting his lined and careworn face against the clouded sky. The rain pricks his skin, though there is no comfort in it. Because he knows he can never be warm and dry again. The wall is too high.
But still he keeps walking, keeps crying out, though quieter now. Nobody knows he’s here, and if they did, they wouldn’t care. He has driven them all away, kept them so far from who he is that there is no-one now to see his suffering. No-one who cares.
He falls to his knees, icy mud clinging to his legs, soaking through his threadbare trousers as tears and rain fall from his cheeks in equal measure. Next to him, a woman lies on her side, curled tight around herself, head tucked to her chest. He does not see her, cannot hear her wracking sobs, so close to his. She could reach out her hand, touch his arm, his face, his heart… and would feel nothing. Neither would ever know. Because at their core they are alone, and nothing can release them from that absolute knowledge.
She stands, legs shaking from the cold and from the effort, her muscles locked in place, and joints protesting at the shift. How long has she been lying there? How long have the fingers of despair locked around her throat? She doesn’t know, and she feels in her bones that no one else does, either. Nobody knows she’s here, and she misses them all.
She tries to picture her friends. A warm and smiling procession of faces, a technicolour memory that only makes the iron grey sky that much duller, the misty drizzle that much colder on her face. What is she recalling? There was music once, lights, laughter. A birthday, maybe, or a pub lunch? They sat around, on old chairs, comfortable chairs in the warm. The taste of wine was on her tongue, and her mouth was curled into a smile. The carefree chatter of her friends surrounded her and soothed her. Or did it?
She wasn’t talking, wasn’t engaged with any of the bright and happy people. Her smile was fixed and deliberate, and it didn’t quite match her eyes. She was among this joy, yes, these sparkling friends, but she was not a part of it, not really. She tried to be, wanted so desperately to be a part of their easy warmth, and maybe they thought she was. But they hadn’t known her, not really. They hadn’t seen the empty ice that filled her, that kept her apart from them, that she desperately tried to thaw with each and every friendly face that smiled at her.
The memory fades, and she shivers as her mind returns to the rain and the wind, tinged with the sting of salt, and the slight stench of rotten seaweed, though there was no ocean here. She feels the ice within her still, and knows she never found anyone to melt it. And now? She never will. Those who tried, she gripped so tightly that they couldn’t breathe, and so she lost them anyway. Now nobody remembers her name. If they should stumble upon an old photograph, some half-remembered birthday party that still brings up a smile, and then see her face, sat there amongst the revellers, they will frown, just for a moment, as they try to remember her name. Then they will shrug, and forget they were even curious. They will not think to wonder about her.
And it is this that she is so deeply afraid of. Not the ache of her flesh from the bitter cold, not the cloying dampness of the rain, or the crushing fatigue from uncounted days or weeks or years without sleep. It is the sure knowledge that nobody remembers her existence enough to even wonder idly where she might be, or to ponder at her suffering.
She screams her fear to the open air, but none beside her hear it.
MARTIN
Thank you.
ALSO MARTIN
I’m sorry. I know it’s hard.
MARTIN
Yeah.
ALSO MARTIN
So? What are we thinking?
MARTIN
I’m thinking that I didn’t ask for this. It’s not my fault they’re here.
ALSO MARTIN
True.
MARTIN
But I can’t keep existing like this at their expense. It’s not… it’s not right. Whatever happens with Elias, W-with the rest of the world… I can’t live on the misery of others.
ALSO MARTIN
They’ll suffer either way.
MARTIN
I get it, okay? I can’t decide what happens to them. But… I just might be able to decide what happens to me. And… And if it comes down to it…
I’ll get John to destroy me like the others.
ALSO MARTIN
You don’t really believe he’d do it?
MARTIN
I don’t know. Maybe?
ALSO MARTIN
…
This took a dark turn.
MARTIN
Yeah. But… this time, it doesn’t feel like despair.
It feels like resolve.
ALSO MARTIN
Well, hopefully it won’t come to that.
MARTIN
Hopefully.
[MARTIN SIPS REFLECTIVELY]
Thanks for the tea.
ALSO MARTIN
We’re welcome.
MARTIN
Ha.
[FLASK IS RESEALED WITH THE LID]
So, how do I leave?
ALSO MARTIN
I think we just keep walking.
MARTIN
And John?
[BAG IS ZIPPED UP]
ALSO MARTIN
I kind of expected him to have interrupted already.
MARTIN
I’m sure he’ll find us eventually.